


A Crack in the Castle of Glass

by TheEchoingSoul



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Angst and Feels, Drama & Romance, F/M, M/M, Multi, Mystery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Supernatural Elements, Tags Contain Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-13 01:17:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 38,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2131593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEchoingSoul/pseuds/TheEchoingSoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What's worse than the possibility that you just murdered your foster family? Well, eating jello with sporks and being emitted to a mental ward that is actually a cover up for super powered patients comes to mind.</p>
<p>Some romance, mystery, and you have yourself an action movie. Shut up! I swear I'm not insane! </p>
<p>AU. Various Pairings such as Spamano, USUK, DenNor, PruCan, and PruMano.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_He stared with wide unseeing eyes blinded by smoke and red. It was all stained. It was soiled. It reached deep, and from that sin stemmed the depths of hell before his very hazy eyes. An arm splayed across the once golden-brown rug at a strange angle. It was wrong. It all was wrong. Arms don't bend that way. Flesh isn't supposed to smell like that. Flesh is not black with white spots protruding from odd angles. Arms were supposed to be attached to shoulders._

_Heads don't dangle, severed from the body with strings of muscle and tissue still attached. Eyes are not meant to be scared, wide blank white ball, in condemning morose. Mouths, especially the jaw, are not torn off, leaving an open chasm, a single top row of bloody teeth remaining. The nose cartilage shouldn't crack like that, the sound ringing out in pain. They aren't supposed to be smashed in like that either._

_Limbs aren't meant to be severed like this. Bones aren't supposed to be fractured, shattered, and cracked into pieces. People weren't made to lose that much blood. Nothing was supposed to suffer. Bodies were meant to be whole with a soul at the center and a heart in the chest._

_Screams weren't meant to be so petrifying. Silence was not supposed to be this loud. Tears are not meant to blind nor leak uncontrollably in fear. The heart was not made to hurt or be confused like this. The brain was supposed to keep everything in check. It wasn't working. It was frozen, staring at the limbs and the gore._

_Hesitating laughter resounded faintly. No one would want to believe this, this was a movie, a set up. Where's the Punk'd crew? The joke wasn't funny anymore. It never was in the first place. Hurry up and stop the camera. This wasn't funny. What type of sick joke was this? Who set this up? God? The neighbors?_

_Why wasn't anyone coming out? This was too surreal. That stain would never come out of the carpet. Those organs looked realistic. This had to be fake. No one should have burned. Realization slowly settled in, which resulted in a numbing effect. Tears aren't meant to blind, but that hardly matters now does it?_

_They were really dead._

_No amount of fake blood and props could look this real. Eyes rarely lied. Yet, bodies don't suddenly…fall apart. Yet, there was no one else in that house, no wire, and no sniper. Would it happen again? To him? How could one be sure?_

_Laughter wasn't meant to sound so hollow, yet full of spite. It filled the empty space, wrapping arms around him in mock comfort._

**Good. Evening.**

* * *

You won't believe me. You really, really won't. I have a hard time believing it myself, but it's true. I swear. I swear it is! I'm not insane! I'm not insane. Not insane. Not insane. Not mad. Not mad. Get away from me you bastards! I'm not mad! I don't belong in a ward. No mental ward. Do you know what their food tastes like? Shit! No mental ward! I'm not going to fucking eat jello cups all day with a fucking  _spork_! I hate those damn things! They need to choose what they are: fork or spoon. Whoever the bastard was that made them should be tortured slowly and have a spork shoved down his fat throat! No one likes sporks! No mental ward!

Not insane. Not insane. Not insane.  _Not insane._ _ **Not insane!**_ _ **Not Insane! NOT INSANE**_ **.**

Shut up. shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

_**NOT INSANE! NOT INSANE INSANEINSANEINSANE!** _

Shut up! It wasn't my fault. Not my fault. Not my fault. Not my fault. Not my fault. Who told? Who told? Was it the worker? The postman? The teacher? Who told? They never cared, bastards all of them.  _ **They should die. They should die.**_

Shut up! Shut up! Not my fault! I didn't do it. No. No. No.  _Not me! Not me! NOT ME!_  They won't be coming back like the rest. They're in heaven… _ **Or hell**_ …

Not my fault. Not my fault. Not my fault. Right?

I'm not insane! I'm not insane!  _I'm not fucking insane! Get the fuck away from me you bastards! I'm not insane!_

…

_Not my fault. Not my fault. Not my fault!_ I didn't do it, right? I didn't! I didn't want to hurt them. I didn't! I swear! You don't believe me?  _You don't believe me? You. Don't. Believe. Me. Leave me alone. Leave me alone! Go away! GO AWAY! Leave me alone. Alone. Alone with me. Alone with the thing._

I'm not insane. I didn't want to hurt anyone. I really didn't! I'm just different.

I'm a  **monster**.

…Save me. Save me, please?

_**Don't come near me. Get away!** _

I'm not insane.

_**You'll die.** _


	2. Mad World

The courtroom was loud with people talking and arguing, but it was silent for once. My head wasn't pounding anymore. This was a good sign.  _It_ wasn't going to act up, everyone was safe. For now.

I looked around the room, glancing at the straitlaced Judge, the plaintiff, the Baylor shifting his weight from foot to foot, and then to the jury. My lawyer stood before them, spouting sentences I didn't care to hear. I could feel stares on my person, trying to peer into me, trying to depict if I was a murderer or just a victim. I cast my gaze down at the table. There was no need for this trial. I already knew what would happen.

I wanted to close my eyes, the florescent lighting bothering them, but I restrained myself. The risk was too high, even if it was quiet now. My eyes itched and burned. I moved to wipe them. Eyes followed me. Screw them! Screw their damn eyes! My eyes itch! Nosy bastards. I'm not suddenly going to go ape-shit-insane. I'm classier than that.

I looked back over at the jury where a man was standing up. He was pudgy and balding with a toothbrush mustache. Who the hell has those anyway? They look like a wannabe Hitler. How do they wake up and look in the mirror to that facial hair glowering at them? Hell, how do their wives even kiss them? Che, the bastards probably don't have wives, they'd have to shave the lip hair then. Shit! It was like a caterpillar! Any moment now and it would crawl off his face. Could you imagine that? The woman sitting next to him would probably shriek if it landed on her, jumping up and trying to flick it off.

I couldn't help but laugh which was a bad idea, because now their all looking at me, staring at me. Fuck! I must look like a lunatic, laughing for no reason. Che, they already think I am. I could tell because the bailiff had placed a hand on him baton, just in case. Ha! I'm not going to lie, but the way I am right now all you would need to stop me is a sigh in my direction. I'm tired, worn, and there's of course the fact that my wrist is broken. Yeah, it was broken in a small accident before all of this shit went down and was going to finish healing within another few weeks. I doubted that I would see that day though.

I once had a cat. It was a really long time ago, and I guess it wasn't really my cat since it was a stray, but it followed me and I gave it food so it was like I owned it. Anyway, I always talked to it. Which isn't weird! Other people would blab to my social worker and then I would have had to undergone more "How do you feel" talks, in which they only focused on anything negative I had to say. The cat would always be there when I had a problem and didn't mind if I spilled out my secrets to it. At that time, even if I didn't act like it, I was terrified and lonely. I was being shifted from family to family, and I was always angry. One secret that I confided was that I was afraid of dying, of never reuniting with my family, who may have been dead or alive. I didn't know. I never knew what happened to that cat either after I moved again. I hope it lived.

The pudgy man started talking. I nearly groaned. His mustache matched his voice. It was high-pitched, but not in that gay way. It was raspy as hell and made me want to shove cotton in my ears. I glowered at the man and he unintentionally met my gaze and faltered for half a syllable. His shirt showed his nervousness, the perspiration bleeding under his armpits and cascading down his sides. It was gross. It probably smelled too, if the girl trying to lean away from him was any indication, but he finished what he had to say. The words froze me on the spot.

I used to attend church every Sunday, no matter if it was always a different one. I would kneel in the pew and praise the Lord with the others, would sing with the choir, and sometimes I'd take the offerings up. I prayed insistently for a sign, for any indication that my family would come to get me, that I would have a home, and that the troubles would subside. Every song nearly had me in tears, reminding me of the past. There came a time when all I did was rely on God, even though he never answered me. It wasn't until a year ago that I had stopped going to church and forsake God. I regretted it. I had just been tired of attending new churches, of introducing myself over and over to people I would never see again, and I was tired of the memories. It was only a few days ago that I had prayed on a fearful whim. I was afraid to die. I believed that I would be condemned today.

Now, imagine my surprise when the words that were spouting out of the pudgy man's mouth were not my death, but a one way ticket to another hell. I was relieved but panicked at the same time. I had learned about older mental hospitals in school, and the patients were usually used as test subjects and tortured. Once you were submitted, you never got out. Of course, that probably wouldn't fly in society today.

I once knew a girl, a pretty one, which had a brother that was committed to a ward for severe depression and suicide attempts. She told me that they had him on medication and that he had told her about the living conditions. He was watched while taking showers, he had a roommate that was always screaming, and they used sporks.  _Sporks._ Who the fuck uses sporks? I wasn't positive if all wards would be like this or if he was just that  _suicidal_. Now, if what she told me was true, then how would they watch me, the insane convicted murderer?

I must have looked jumpy, because my lawyer was placing a hesitant hand on my shoulder. Che, he was afraid of me. The only reason he took this case was because he hated the plaintiff. He didn't give a damn about me. He had won the case. His reputation was inflated.

My eyes hurt. Stupid fucking lights making my eyes burn. I started to blink, but each time I tried to reopen my eyes I had to close them again. It burned. The lights were frying my eyes. The stupid bastard was still touching me. He needed to let go. He had to let go. I squinted. The courtroom was a blur of colors. It was spinning, or was I turning my head? It was too bright. I placed my hands over my eyes, staring at the specks that appeared. Someone was touching me. They needed to let go. I hadn't noticed, but I was beginning to yell for the man to let go. I don't know what's wrong with me. The back of my eyes burned and my nerves were humming in pain. There was something running down the sides of my face. I did not know what. My skin was itchy and it was too hot. Why was this happening? Why? Why?

It felt like hours had passed before my nerves screamed one last time. My eyes blearily opened and, though fuzzy, I could make out people peering over me. They were in white or maybe it was black. The lamps were aiding in blinding me. There were voices, but I couldn't make them out. Something was moving through my system, and I was feeling sleepy.

_It's okay. Just sleep._

I wasn't able to question the voice, my eyelids were too heavy, and I was tired. The voice wasn't like  _it_  and that was enough. The voice was soothing and warm, like how my mother's was. I didn't know, but I started crying then. Don't judge me! They probably drugged me! You do weird things when you're loopy! I just happened to cry over my mother. That doesn't make me any less of a man. Ok?

_Sleep._

 

 

* * *

I really hate hospitals. It's not really the smells that bother me since staid bleach and whatever cliché hospital smells will never rival up to the smell of decaying corpses. People are just too fucking picky and always want to smell 'good' things, so when they visit a hospital their nose takes in the unfamiliar scents and deems it disgusting. No, I hate hospitals because if I'm not visiting someone then I'm the one in the bed. I also don't like needles. Sure, a few in the arm every so many years is nothing, but I despise the feeling of whatever their injecting slowly moving throughout my body like some type of thick syrup. I groaned, trying to turn my head away from the light streaming into the window. They should invest in darker blinds! One day a patient is just going to wake up and die from the shock that the sunlight will give their eyes.

I tried to grab the blanket to pull over me, but found that both my hands were cuffed to the side of the bed. Someone just fucking insert a perverted comment here, I dare you! Che, this really pisses me off! I mean, it's not much of a surprise, but this is  _not_  how anyone should have to wake up. I pouted. What else could I fucking do? I was chained to a bed! Damn, I can hear the perverted comments. Well, might as well wake up. "Hey, nurse!" I yelled and winced as my voice cracked. Stupid handcuffs. Stupid water pitcher that I couldn't reach.

Finally a nurse came in, and it was some guy in his fifties. He glared at me. Oh, a challenge? Che, I was the motherfucking champ at glaring!

"What do you want?" He finally gritted out. Well, wasn't he just a goddamn ray of  _sunshine_. I decided to have some fun. "I have to take a leak." His brow twitched at my language and I smirked in triumph. He begrudgingly picked up a key from the tray and walked over, trying to hide his quivering hands as he unbound one of my hands, which just so happened to be the one with a broken wrist. I mean, my hand is nearly crippled and he's near pissing himself! I almost felt bad for him. The key word being  _almost_.

He adjusted the cuffs onto my wrists, allowing them to be bound before me. How kind of him. He even waited outside of the bathroom for me to finish, nearly jumping out of his skin when I remerged. What a gentleman (Note the sarcasm). He returned me to my designated room for the rest of my stay, and was relieved to see three guys there. Hell, he  _barely_  held back in flinging me at one of them! Bastardo! I should find the hospital manager and give them a piece of my damn mind! Or I could write a letter. That way I don't run the risk of getting sedated or man handled.

Angry messages aside, I looked up at the guy that I was thrown into. He was probably around thirty, and had short slicked back hair. I faintly wondered if his hair gel was flammable, but hurriedly dismissed it. He stared down at me, frowning with stoic grey eyes. I moved my stair to one of the others guys, and found this one easier to look at. He had dark skin, short well kept brown hair, and matching eyes. Interestingly enough he had a red dot in the middle of his forehead. Now I don't know for sure, but he looks like a stereotypical Indian or Hindi man to me.

The former man caught by attention as he smiled, and it wasn't some reassuring smile or even a half smile. The asshole was amused with something, and it was probably me. Che, it's not like I  _wanted_ to have bed head and be decorated in bandages right then. At this point, I just really wanted to punch this asshole.

"Well, you must be the new addition. I'm the director, Dr. Crowley, and this is Dr. Amra." He indicated to the Hindi guy with a simple gesture. Dr. Amra made eye contact with me and gave a small smile, and let me tell you something, his smile was enough to let me know that he felt bad that this creep was even talking to me. I wanted to smile back, but already some guy that had been in the back was injecting something into my arm. Fucking great, I just shouldn't even bother to wake up anymore. It'll save them the time and money on having to inject me every ten fucking minutes. Sheesh!

I was signed out and led to a car, but I don't really remember that too well, ya know, because of the drugs. It was around an hour later when I became aware of my surrounding, and I was not a happy camper! For one the cuffs were beginning to cut into my wrists and my scalp was sore. The bandages on my face were starting to bother me, like an annoying buzzing sound, only on my face. I glared out the window. Apparently, I had flipped out yesterday at the trial and clawed at the sides of my face, ripping out some hair in the process. It wasn't too serious and there shouldn't be any permanent scarring, but I would have to endure a tender scalp and face for awhile. I glared down at my traitorous hands, noticing the dried blood under my fingernails.

I sighed, looking back out the window at the scenery. Nothing but open fields and a few chain stores for travelers. I really hated sitting here. That asshate was in the passenger seat up front with some other guy driving. In front of me was Dr. Arma and another stupid worker, and then of course they couldn't leave me alone. I had a fucking worker sitting right next to me, butting into my personal space, causing me to feel like a canned sardine, only I was the sardine smooshed into the side of the freaking can. I could feel his fucking breath on my elbow!

There was an incident that I witnessed at one of the schools that I had briefly attended. Some bully was bothering this really small, scrawny guy by towering over him. Well, the smaller of the two was known for being really nice and the type that wouldn't hurt anyone. So my jaw had damn near dropped when he popped the taller kid in the jaw and then pushed him into a wall. Granted that the kid felt a little bad, but when asked why he finally fought back, the kid told us that he couldn't stand people with foul smelling breath. I understand now as to what he meant. I wanted to punch the worker next to me too until he moved over, or until I was sedated, which wouldn't be fair. No one ever got sedated for fighting in middle school.

A small town passed by and I grew restless. I strained to look up front where the gas thermometer was located, but I didn't have my glasses. Not like I needed them or anything! I can see just fine, if not near perfect. I just can't read really small print from this far back, which sucks because I could sit in the back of the classroom and see the board perfectly. I haven't worn my glasses in forever and I refuse to. It has nothing to do with that time some kid said I looked stupid! Not at all! Gah! I hoped this car would hurry up and stop by a gas station. I really need to stretch.

My eyes started to itch, and from past events I've decided that this is never a good sign. My left eye began to twitch on its own accord and I rubbed it, cautious just in case an eyelash had landed itself in my eye fluid. Stupid long lashes. If anything I probably made it even worse, because now I couldn't stop rubbing them. I cursed under my breath, rubbing furiously until something appeared before my eyes. It was a bottle of eye drops and Dr. Arma was indicating for me to take it from him. I won't say that I'm stupid, but I just had a feeling that I could trust the doc, for now anyway.

If you know anything about using eye drops, then it's pretty much common knowledge. If not, then you are one lucky bastard. Eye drops require you to hold your eyelids open and squeeze the bottle until two drops fall into your eye. Repeat with the other eye. I hate the tiny shock that goes through my nerves when the drop enters my eye. No matter how many times I use the product it always shocks me. I handed the bottle back and waited. The itching subsided, but they still ached for some reason.

The rest of the ride was unpleasant. We never once stopped. The guy next to me never stopped breathing and-Fuck it! I'm lying! Some shit did go down, only it ended in me being sedated just five minutes from the freaking ward. In my defense the guy had it coming. He suddenly sagged onto me and I managed to push him up and off, but he fell again, and this time on my damn wrist, the broken one. It started bending at a strange angle, so I flipped out. I started cussing and punching the guy away from me, but apparently self defense is frowned on in that damn car! The worst part is that the stupid guy was the one who sedated me, and it fucking hurt! He rammed that damn needle into my neck like some horny elephant!

I heard later on that the guy had his paycheck cut because he nearly punctured something in my neck. Isn't that just grand? I'm spared the fucking death penalty only to nearly die by the thing that was supposed to be helping me. One day my body will just build a resistance to whatever they put in those needles, and then hell will break loose. I personally give myself twenty minutes of rampaging before they shoot me down, unless I escape, then I give myself a few weeks, but of course I would be injured during the escaping and meet someone that teaches me love or some cliché shit, promises to protect me and I vow to protect them, blah, blah, I probably die, there would be a lot of crying, and there's a chick flick. I won't charge this time, but I recommend waiting around if you're looking for a thriller or some other genre.

Who the hell am I talking to? Oh well, I fucking like to address nonexistent people! Fuck, I sound like I've lost my marbles. Great, now I'm using hackneyed similes! Who uses the word 'hackneyed'? I blame my eighth grade teacher; he always used big words that sounded like nonsense to say things, like withershins, which means counterclockwise.  _"Make sure you go withershins."_  Urgh and no one ever knew what he really meant. I was never so happy to leave a school as I was that year. I only had the teacher for a month, and I was failing his class.

Anyway, I spent my first night unconscious. Great. I probably looked like some whack-job. I bet I was wheeled in on a gurney and that people stared at me. Not that I freaking care…I umm just don't want to be sedated for using a spork. I really hate sporks. I can just hear those stupid workers, "Hey Jim (Yes, this fake character's name is Jim, problem?), who was that kid that was wheeled in?"

"Lovino Vargas? He's a psycho," –insert laugh here- "He nearly murdered Bob in the car. Be careful. He might spork you!"

The other worker will laugh, "Gee golly, he'll fit right in!" Then the two would laugh, and then a few years later they'll be poisoned and die in their bathrooms.

Don't laugh at me, it could happen! It sounds funny, and I'm probably over thinking this, but I can't help it! I tend to kill off characters I don't like. Yeah, morbid and cynical here, but you don't mind. It doesn't matter even if you did. Who am I addressing? Wait, I already had this internal monologue with myself. Shit!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, wasn't this a grand chapter? I had to cut it short since it was getting a bit too long. Quick note, I'm trying to keep Lovi in character, but in my head cannon he's just afraid of getting too close to people because of his brother being the favorite. This time around I hope to incorporate my own meaning behind his tendencies to push others away, hopefully without slaying his character into tiny pieces. Of course I expect some OOC-ness, but I'm still getting the feel of his character.
> 
> P.S. Another of my headcanon is that Lovi has glasses somewhere, but doesn't usually wear them because he's self conscious.
> 
> New Character(s)
> 
> Dr. Amra-India.
> 
> I cannot disclose who Dr. Crowley is yet.


	3. Birdcage

When I finally awoke it was around eight in the morning. Thankfully, it was Dr. Amra that found me first. He gave me a normal ibuprofen for the ache in my wrist, and it served to numb the pain in my face and even my neck that had been savagely attacked by that stupid worker. The Hindi man apologized for the incident, letting me know that the worker was new and inexperienced. Of course I felt satisfied when I learned that he had been punished, but my early morning brain decided to be a sympathetic, traitor. The poor guy's first real hands-on experience had been me, and he had just messed up a bit…Yeah, nearly re-breaking my wrist and killing me.

Dr. Amra led me to the showers, handing me a pair of spare clothes that were borrowed from another patient that was roughly the same size as me. I was relieved that he didn't follow me in or watch me. That would have been  _very_ awkward, even if he was a doctor. Anyway, I allowed myself to enjoy the shower; even tearing off some of the unneeded safety tape didn't damper my mood too much, because we all know that I am a ray of goddamn  _sunshine_. The shampoo smelled herb-y and the soap was some vegetable, maybe cucumber, scented. As I was washing out the shampoo I looked down. A mistake on my part. I could now clearly see small strings of blood circling around the drain in some fucking sort of childish game. I pulled my hand away from my head and stared at the wet red spots of liquid. Well, that isn't a good sign at all.

I finished and hurriedly pulled on the clothes, a short-sleeved burgundy shirt and some black jeans. They both were a bit big on me but they would have to do. I walked out and informed Dr. Amra of my bleeding scalp. Thus began our journey to the medical wing. In short, I received some stares and nearly tripped over some cat in the hallway. Why was a fucking cat even sleeping in the hallway anyway? Once in the correct room I was instructed to sit in a chair. He had me place a cloth on my head and apply pressure as he left to gather some cotton balls or something. I don't know. I stopped paying attention.

I glanced around at the room, and if you've ever been to the doctor then BAM! That's what it looked like, minus the stupid animal paintings and scales. As I was observing the room I couldn't help but catch a flash of blue. I blinked before squinting at the area. Great, the room might be haunted. Not that I believe in ghosts or anything! I turned back around to confirm that nothing was there and probably jumped a good two feet into the air. A person was there! He was wearing a red hoodie that looked really beat up, the "I've been through a lot of stains and discolored washes but still look good" beat up, and not that hole-y beat up. He wore an old, worn pair of blue jeans, which is probably what I saw earlier, and converse. I stared at the large stuffed polar bear in his arms before raising my gaze to him face. He had violet eyes and long blonde curly hair, and it wasn't that overly curly shit. I'm talking the subtle, but still noticeable curls…It looked slightly wavy too.

"Who the hell are you?" Yup, I'm  _such_ a social butterfly.

The guy visibly jumped, well that makes two of us now, before trying to form a reply. He started stuttering uncontrollably, and again I felt bad. I should really see someone about this random guilt. "Hey, I'm not going to strangle you with a stethoscope, chill the fuck out." Okay, probably not my best, but it is an improvement.

The blonde looked at me in silence before chuckling, "I would hope not. That wouldn't be very pleasant." Holy crapola! He has such a soft voice that I barely even heard him. "I'm Matthew Williams."

"Lovino Vargas." No, we did  _not_ shake hands! What type of cliché fiction do you think this is?

Matthew looked at me, his eyes a bit wider. "Y-You're the one that arrived y-yesterday, r-right?"

I told you! I had already been talked about! Fuck! It's like attending that one high school for two months all over again. Yeah, if you haven't noticed, I've been moved around a lot. Well, this was severely pissing me off, but I bit my cheek and nodded. I'm not a fan of needles. I don't need this guy to scream and have some nurse shove a needle in my neck again.

"Oh, I thought you would be a lot," He paused, searching for the right word, "Bigger." I couldn't help it, I swear. I started laughing a bit, but I stopped as soon as I regained control over myself. I'm not even sure why it was funny, it just was. "Didn't you know?" I started, leaning towards him, "When I get angry I grow into a giant green beast."

He laughed at my lame joke, but I liked this, it was fun. This was safe. As long as he stayed over there and I remained in control, then it was fine. It's hard to believe that he's in this ward, he seems relatively normal, but then again I once had too.

"You can still see me?" I looked up at him surprised tone. We had been chatting for the last few minutes, and this was just out of the blue. "Of course I fucking can, why wouldn't I be able to see you?" Even though it was brash the guy still smiled, and I mean smiled like he was going to cry tears of joy. "If you cry, I swear to God that I'll pretend you aren't there." Yeah, I'm a real people-person. At least he stopped looking like he was going to bawl. "Sorry, I'm just really happy. Most people don't see me, and if they do then it's only for a few minutes."

I raised a brow, fuck the fact that it sent a small shock of pain through my scalp, and would have said something else, but the door opened and yet  _another_ new teenager arrived. And he was blonde. It was a lighter shade than Matthew's, and it wasn't as curly or long. I actually thought he was a girl, what with the cross hair accessory and the hat he was wearing. He had really soft features, okay! He looked at the two of us with blank violet eyes, but it was a different shades than Matthew's, more blue. He opened his mouth, looking at me, "I'm not a girl."

Well, that was shocking. He had such a guy voice! I mean, it matched him, but I just thought that it would be higher pitched. I could only dumbly nod at his intimidating gaze, er I mean, I just was shocked that he wasn't a girl! He doesn't intimidate me! Nope! Geez, I really needed to grow a few more inches and work on getting some form of muscle, and then maybe I would feel less intimidated. Wait, why wasn't I just scowling and glaring? I glanced at the guy again, well his lack of expression and my glare could probably go on for a really long time, and I just don't have the energy. Speaking of energy, I feel a little light headed.

I looked up, jumping slightly as the cloth I had been putting pressure on was taken out of my hand, and locked eyes with mystery man there. He moved to the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. You can always tell it's hydrogen peroxide because it comes in such a brown bottle, I mean I know the bottle has to be dark because the chemical inside reacts to light, but I really hate looking at that bottle. It's just so…brown. I would have ranted more if not for the stinging that stemmed from my scalp. The guy had come back after pouring some of the chemical on the cloth. He placed it on my head, and it was none too fucking gently either!

"What the fuck?" I yelled, trying to glare at him, but I really couldn't turn around.

"It was bleeding." That bastard! I could hear the fucking smile in his tone!

"Is that much force necessary?" At least I knew Matthew wouldn't stand to see this injustice! I looked back over and almost retracted my statement, he looked nervous, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Lukas Bondevik." I didn't say anything, allowing Lukas to mess with my scalp. I really needed to give myself a good talking to. I barely know these two, and already I'm letting one of them poke at my head wound. I'm in a fucking mental ward! Lukas could just snap and rip my scalp open and Matthew…I'm not sure what he would do, but it would probably be  _very_ unpleasant!

Matthew chuckled for a second, smiling down at his bear, trying to cover up his smile. I wasn't sure why he was laughing, but I decided to let it go. I refocused on looking out the window where there looked to be an open field and then woodland further off. I wasn't close enough to see more than that, but I had a feeling that there was a fence around the perimeter. I shifted my glance to Matthew, then back to the window. I ended up chatting with the both of them for awhile, faintly wondering why it was taking Dr. Amra so long, but not minding. It's been a long time since I've had such calm and normal social interaction. Who knows, maybe we were becoming friends.

I observed my fingernails as the two carried on a conversation. I tried to recall ever having a friend, but the only things I could come up with were a cat, my brother, and blank faces of children that I had once played with before  _that_ time. I'm really fucking pathetic. I haven't made any real friends since then, just a few acquaintances that would sometimes talk with me, but I usually was by myself. I just didn't  _connect_ well with most human beings. They were usually ignorant and would fling questions in my face on a whim without any regard to how I would feel. I mean, I have a really bad mouth, but that doesn't mean I'm insensitive! I mean, I felt bad for the nurse who nearly murdered me the other day! I should really try to get over that, but I'll wait another hour. It's still too early for this. I looked at the clock on the wall, 10:13 AM, yup, way too early. I refuse to be functional before eleven, and if I'm feeling good then maybe 10:30. Yeah, I'm not a morning person.

"Finished." I looked up at Lukas, and then raised my hand to ghost the stitches on my head. I wasn't sure how he did it, and to be honest I was slightly worried, but I decided to let it go for now. I mean, I'm not dead and the guy seems trustworthy enough. I would just have Dr. Amra check it when he got back. No big deal. "Thanks, bastard." I really needed to work on my people skills and my mouth. This is pathetic. Again.

Lukas only nodded, and didn't seem offended. I don't know exactly why, but the both of us turned to Matthew, glancing him over for damage since he  _is_ in the medical wing. He looked back at us for a few seconds before it clicked. "No, I'm fine. I just came here to get my medicine. They forgot to give me it. Again," He sounded miserable. He's such a sad, lamentable Bastardo.

"Breakfast," I looked up at Lukas. Is it just me or has he mainly been talking with one word replies, and Mathew and I just infer what he's talking about. This time though, I really didn't get it.

Lukas seemed to understand, that or he just liked to take long pauses between his words to throw us off, because he continued on, "You both missed breakfast, right?"

That's right, I only got up maybe an hour ago, stupid drug endued sleeping messes with your internal clock, and judging by the way the Norwegian put it, the most important meal of the day had ended. Matthew ended up answering for the both of us, before turning to me to explain. "Breakfast is from five to about ten. Lunch is from one to three, and then dinner is from six-thirty to ten." I simply nodded.

"We should sit together." Lukas stated, and Matthew agreed. I was slower to answer, not sure if I should or not. So far, things are alright, but there's always that chance. I glanced back over at the two of them and agreed, I mean I could always run out of the room if needed.

Dr. Amra came back in a few minutes later, looking completely worn. His outfit was messed up, his hair was raised in random direction on the left side, and he looked really worn out. He grumbled about something before remembering we were there. Long story short, he checked the stitches and commended Lukas before re-bandaging a few of my other injuries. I was really grateful that Lukas and Matthew hadn't asked about it yet, even more so when all they did was shift their eyes when I caught them looking. Well, no one is perfect.

Next up on the list of  _Fresh Meat_  was the tour, and I learned the layout of the building. The patient's rooms stretched around the east wing and west wing, in the middle of them is the cafeteria. Closer to the front of the building was the medical wing and director's office, and opposite it was a recreation center. There's also a gym, but it's in the basement with some older rooms that are no longer used. Outside there's a basketball court and apparently a place to play tennis. If I didn't know any better, then this place would feel like some kind of country club.

After the tour I was dropped off in the cafeteria. It was almost one (The building was huge and people kept stopping us in order to talk with the Doctor.), so I just waited. People began arriving and after a few minutes I spotted Matthew trying to pass this line of people who were chatting with one another. I groaned. They acted like high school freshman. I might have done something, but I wasn't looking to cause myself further injury than those that I already had sustained. Instead I just moved over to him when the line passed, nearly making him piss himself in surprise. I rolled my eyes, "I can still see you, dumbass."

He smiled and nodded while leading me into the lunch line. "What will you be having?" I looked at the woman, then at Matthew who was ahead of me. I waited for him to answer, but she was looking at me. "What about him?" The lady followed my finger, so she wasn't blind, and looked at where Matthew was standing. "Hun, no one is there. Oh, is it one of your little friends?" I stared at her, no, correction; I glared her down. "Look again." She humored me and did so, visibly taken aback when she saw Matthew standing where he had been for the last two minutes. "When did you-"She stopped and shook her head, "What can I get you both?"

Once we had our food I looked over at the Canadian, "You weren't kidding about people not being able to see you." He only nodded in response. "At least she didn't call you hun, I almost flipped." It seemed to cheer him up a little, but I was being serious. I hate when people call me hun, I really do.

We spotted Lukas and walked over towards the table, setting our trays down to eat with him. I've participated in lunch room chat before, nearly stabbing my ears with a fork from the torture, but this was really different. I don't know how to fucking explain it, but it wasn't gossip and fashion and boys. The topics varied from things such as football (soccer for you Americans), the food, and there of course was the debate about sporks because I can't keep my thoughts to myself. Thankfully, there weren't sporks or jello cups around. In all, I was enjoying my lunch.

"Norge!"

Moment ruined.

I looked up as a  _really_ tall, and you guessed it, blonde guy came bounding over. I'm never going to admit it, but his hair was kind of cool. It was spiky and just everywhere, but fit him. I may have even engaged in civil conversation with him if it wasn't for the fact that he had yelled from the other side of the cafeteria and was running at our table like a crazy man trying to rob an old lady, like she could chase him! As he grew closer and launched himself at Lukas, the stoic teen just pushed his own chair back, dodging him. The guy crashed into the floor, but sprung back up, looking at Lukas in mock hurt. "Hey, that hurts!" He leaned in to hug Lukas, but all the fair blonde did was grab the other teen's tie and strangle him with it. Why he was wearing a tie I will never know.

"What do you want, Dane?"

"Sit with me!" Did he just whine?

"No."

"Why?"

"I have other friends."

"Nuh-uh! You only said this morning that you needed new friends so you wouldn't have to suffer by sitting near me!" I blinked. Well that made this awkward as hell. Even the temperature seemed to understand, because it grew really cold where we were all sitting, that or I should go close that window, it's letting in a draft.

"Umm…Please stop fighting." Matthew said, and Matthias (Yes, his name had been used during some dialogue that wasn't included.) looked over in surprise. "Hey, when did you get here? I'm Matthias!" He grabbed Matthew's hand and began to shake it. Yeah, let the clichés begin. He then looked over at me, "Who're you?"

My eyebrow twitched. Me plus air headed jock types was a bad equation. I have a short temper and my patience has been nearly god like for awhile now, but even the patience of a freaking saint runs out eventually. I glared at the offered hand that was in my face. "Lovino." Well, I would have to keep it together for a bit longer.

His mouth opened in an O of surprise. "You're the new guy! The one who had to be sedated!" Yup, and there was life, testing my patience and resolve to not flip shit on someone. From across the table Lukas facepalmed as Matthias spewed out rumors that had circulated about me and what happened.

I could feel my eyes stinging again. I reached up to rub them, not able to stop myself, but it only made it worse. This was turning out like yesterday, only I doubt that anyone had spare eye drops that they would lend me. I rubbed and rubbed, trying to open my eyes more than just a fraction. Matthias kept talking and talking, he wouldn't shut up, not even when Lukas was straight out telling him to. "Are you okay?" It was Matthew, and he was no doubt addressing me, but I couldn't answer. The back of my eyes were starting to burn. I had to leave. Now.

I blindly stood up, squinting to find the exit, and once spotted I left in a near run. My eyes were burning and itching to the point that I can barely open my eyes for more than a millisecond. I have no idea where I'm going, but I stumbled along anyway. Fuck! It really hurts. Why does this keep happening? I stumbled into something and fell back, but was steadied by someone before I hit the ground.

"You ok, mi amigo?" His accent was Spanish, but suave. Okay, Lovino, your eyes are burning, no time for looking into a stranger's accent when you can't even see him right now! I placed my hands over my eyes, but even the artificial darkness didn't cause my eyes to open. I registered that someone was talking to me, but I couldn't understand the babble. I actually couldn't hear just about anything. Almost all the hustle and bustle had disappeared, leaving this void. I knew this feeling, and there was no escaping it once it reached this far, so I allowed myself to slip into it.

_There was a door at the end of a darkened tunnel. He looked back, but found only a chasm of black ink. Looking forwards he took a hesitant step, unsure of himself. That one step turned into two, which turned into a full-out walk. As he walked towards that door the tunnel around him began to shift into blobs that reached out at him._

_He quickened his pace, reaching the door, but there wasn't a handle. He was trapped there! The blobs reached for him again, but never touched him. A strange circle had appeared around him and two people were standing in front of him, fending off the creatures._

"Wake up. This isn't meant to be your dream."

* * *

It always feels like I do a lot of waking up, which usually isn't a problem, but I hate waking up when I hadn't chosen to fall asleep in the first place, and I don't mean accidentally falling asleep on the sofa or crashing after drinking too much. I'm talking about the "some guy beat me till I was knocked out" sleeping and the narcotics. Those are the worst things to wake up from! First of all, you wake up slowly and everything seems okay until you don't recognize where you are or that you shouldn't sit up, because you're just going to fall back in pain. Yes, well it seems that once a day is not enough for me, because this has happened twice and it's only four in the afternoon! I was out for nearly two hours. The fuck?

I sat up and wiped my eyes, relieved that there was only a dull ache. I really hated when this happens, being forced to sleep like that. Usually I just see an object, have sudden pain and can't see the world around me, watch some film strip, and then it's done. It rarely has ever caused me to fall asleep, granted that most of the time I already am asleep, but that's besides my damn point!

"You're awake!" I glanced up at the voice and came face to fucking face with some overly happy idiot. His jade colored eyes stared right into my olive ones. His curly, short hair was ghosting my forehead, and his own darker tanned skin. Holy shit, I think my heart just exploded. "Get the fuck out of my face, Bastardo! What the fuck is wrong with you!" I should really get a muzzle. I just need to stop talking. Maybe I should become a mute and travel the country as a mute musician, maybe join a band and play the keyboard or saxophone. Screw that, I should just find my old cello or violin and have my own band full of mutes and maybe a singer, and give ourselves a cool, Italian name. That would work. Too bad I no longer have a cello…I wonder if they bothered to pack my violin to send me. I should ask someone about that, I really wanted to play it now.

Back in the present, the guy was giving me a curious look before he smiled, never moving away. "Awe, you look like a tomato!" What? Okay, so my face felt hot, but that's because he was way too close for comfort. "Get the fuck away from me!" Okay, so I'm none too bright when flustered so I head butted the guy's face. It succeeded in knocking him away from me, but he had one hard damn skull!

"Ow, not cute Lovi."

Lovi? What in goddamn hell was a  _Lovi_? It took some time but I managed to put two and two together. I growled, no. No freaking way in this small world of decay and Satanism that my nickname would be Lovi! "Chigi! What the fucking hell!"

He looked up at me and was  _still smiling_! What is he a masochist? I once met a masochist, er should I say I  _lived_ with one for two weeks. The social worker ended up finding out after some  _very_ concerned calls from the neighbors. That's probably one of the weirdest homes I had the misfortune of being temporarily adopted into.

"But Lovi is cute!"

Oh hell no! I am  _not_  cute! My arms may not be as muscular as his and I might be built with a smaller rounded waist, but I am not fucking cute! I am a man for crying out loud! I briefly understood why upon meeting Lukas he told me that he wasn't a girl. I feel the emotional pain that it causes. "I'm not fucking cute you bastard! Go rot in fucking hell!" Okay, even I feel like I've been saying hell a lot. I need another word.

"You're so cute, like a tomato~" Why was he getting closer? What the fuck? Did he…did he just pull on my cheek? That's it. He's dead.

I glared at him and tried to punch him, but he dodged, moving his head just a fraction to the side. Asshole! "Go die you asswipe." Okay, along with burning eyes I've also concluded that feeling light headed is not a good sign. Not like it matters. A stray strand of hair fell into my face and I moved it back, wincing when my hand brushed against my scalp. I moved my hand towards me and glowered down at the small streaks of blood. Yeah, head butting this idiot may not have been the smartest move, but it was satisfying.

"You're bleeding!"

"Really, I hadn't fucking noticed!" I snapped at him, but he was already over at some sink, getting a wash cloth and wetting it with some water. I sighed, I was in the medical wing again…wait did that bastard carry me here? Holy shit! No! No! No! Merda! That's embarrassing. God, what if he carried me bridle-style? Gah! Someone kill me now, well I had that chance and blew it, and so at least let me burrow into a hole or something! Okay, calm down, this isn't so bad. It could be worse. You could have been sedated, again. Yup, that's a definite possibility here.

The guy was back and was trying to place the rag on my head, but being a ray of sunshine I snatched it from him and held it against my head myself. I didn't need to be in debt to him anymore than I was. "I'm Antonio." "Good for you." Ah sarcasm, it's my third language (Italian and English are the others).

"That's not nice! I introduced myself, so you have to introduce yourself!" God he acted like a ten-year old. "Lovino-Wait a second, you already know my name!" He did call me Lovi, and that was too close to my real name to just be dumb luck.

"I know! But, it's a lot more fun when you tell me yourself." Someone should just really hit him. That stupid smile was beginning to get on my nerves, what was he so fucking happy about anyway? "I read some of your medical records."

…I heard that wrong, right? No? I thought so too. "Che chosa? You fucking creep!"

"I just wanted to make sure that you were going to be alright, mi amigo."

"I'm not your amigo you loco Spaniard!"

"You speak Spanish?"

I growled, throwing my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Yeah, I speak a little bit of Spanish but that's a story I don't want to talk about. Let's just leave it at that for now. Anyway, the dumbass tried to stop me, but after swearing at him up and down he seemed to get it that I was fine, and that I could walk properly.

Just then the door opened and a woman with black hair stepped in and I froze, staring at her hair. It was layered and looked feathery, but in a regal sense, not the gross type. It was layered like some of those really ugly dresses, but more spiked and lacked the gaudiness. She had two strands in the front that just framed her apple shaped face. Her eyes were blue, pure blue and bright. She wasn't pale, but her tan wasn't as dark as mine. God, if I wasn't gay then I would have  _the_ biggest crush on her.

"Hola, Ms. Vilamaris!" Antonio waved at her. He never stopped smiling did he?

"Antonio, are you not late for your gym hour?" She asked, but already knew the answer. Antonio gave a sheepish smile and rubbed the back of his head, "Maybe just a little."

"You know Mr. Alucio hates it when you are late." She stated before taking out a pad of paper and a pen from her pristine white coat. She began to scribble something down before tearing the paper out and handing it Antonio. "Go straight to the gym. No buts." The Spaniard nodded, "Bye, Lovi! Thanks Ms. Vilamaris!"

I wasn't sure if I was relieved that the idiot left or perturbed at the fact that this all seemed to be a common occurrence. Ms. Vilamaris looked at me and gave a smile. "You must be Lovino. As you've heard, I'm Ms. Vilamaris. You gave us quite the shock when you suddenly fainted earlier. Are you feeling any better?"

I nodded. I wasn't too sure what her occupation was, but she could be another doctor for all I know. That lab coat certainly makes her look like one. "That's good. I'm one of the three counselors, the other two being Mr. Hammon and Mr. Rickerson. Due to their schedules, I have been asked to substitute for your counselor, Mr. Rickerson."

Oh just great, another therapy session! I can the just hear the "How are you feeling" questions already. She had me take a seat, and while she did ask me the basic cliché "how are you feeling" she quickly moved away from it and onto another subject.

"How many foster homes have you been in?"

"Umm," this was a really hard question. I had lost track some time ago, but I think I lost count at around twenty. I told her this and she paused, processing it, but didn't look up at me. If this place was top-notch then they would probably check my statement with my social worker's records. I'm pathetic, I know. As the conversation wore on, I felt more relaxed. I didn't mind answering the questions too much and if I did then she allowed me to skip over them.

"Well, I think that just about does it." She said, clicking her fountain pen and placing it back into her pocket. "Thank you, Lovino. I believe dinner is about to start. Tomorrow morning Mr. Rickerson will meet with you to explain the daily regimen."

I nodded, standing up to leave. When I got to the door I looked down, "Thank you." And then I left the room.

"I don't deserve your thanks." She whispered, but I didn't catch it as I had already closed the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll just let you all know now, but most OC characters will probably be Ancient Civilizations (Look down below for examples) or characters that already have a few debatable designs, but are not canon. Yet.
> 
> Also, please correct me on any mistakes that I may make in Italian, it would be very helpful!
> 
> New Character(s):
> 
> Nadia Vilamaris-Atlantis
> 
> Lagunas Alucio-Iberia
> 
> Luccius Baal Hammon-Carthage
> 
> Mr. Rickerson-Random brief character (?)


	4. Sweet Poison Factory

Have you ever disliked someone and I mean  _really_  disliked someone and you've only just met? If no, then stop lying to yourself, you aren't fooling anyone. For those who've honestly answered yes, you probably know exactly what was going through my head for the last ten minutes. For you liars it's something like this:  _What the hell? Why the fuck are you talking to me? Shut the fuck up you bitch/bastard! Get away!_

Of course some thoughts are far worse, but you get the general gist. At least I hope so because I'm just having an internal monologue with myself. I should understand my own point, right? No? Well, I never asked for your fucking opinion anyway, Bastardo! What gives you…me…er I…Never mind. I think I've just confused myself.

Internal doubt of self aside now, I've found that I tend to dislike a vast number of people just by breathing the same air as them, but never have I really disliked someone by just them walking in. It's a real petty reason, yet there I was, just changing my clothes (I've been told that some of my things will arrive later today, but for now I'm still borrowing) when this guy walks right into the room, not even having the freaking decency to  _knock_ or warn me! I had my pants still half off! And he just stood there,  _watching_ , the fucking creep! To make things worse he walked over to me and nearly dug one of his fucking, greasy, oily fingers into my scalp. It fucking hurt! He let go after a minute and his finger was clean of blood, but I could feel the scab swelling up. He then had the gull to tell me, "I guess you won't need any painkillers, seems healed to me. By the way, I'm Mr. Rickerson. That's  _Mr. Rickerson_ , understand, boy?" At that moment I really wished I was insane enough to punch him, but I could see a part of a syringe sticking out of one of his pockets, and I'd rather not be sedated today.

"Well, pull your pants up, or are you that desperate?" I gawked a moment before rattling off curses under my breath before hurrying to finish getting dressed.

"Finally! You're just like a girl; slow but good for a look." I didn't say anything, but I did glare at him. Maybe I'm oversensitive, but I know a few girls that could take him down in a second. Trust me, they mistook me for a girl due to some stupid bet I had to do, but even after finding out I was a guy they didn't really care. Part of that is because they dubbed me gay and had blackmail material on me. Of course word spreads and some macho dumbass thought it would be funny to pick on me. I'm not one for letting girl's fight for me, but holy shit! This guy was like two hundred and sixty pounds and there were two girls, each maybe a hundred and twenty each. Somehow they beat him up so quickly that all I can remember seeing is a heel and handbag flying. I'm being completely serious.

"Now,  _honey_ , this is how the schedule works; you can wake up between four-forty five through eight in the morning. Personally, I don't care. We shouldn't even feed you weirdos like we do. Lunch is from one to three, and then dinner is from six-thirty to ten at night." He began to pick at his ear, not really paying attention as he flung the earwax on his nail into somewhere over yonder. On my floor. Someone, God, just hit him with something already!

"Now, the director doesn't want you freaks to stink up the joint, so showers are open from eight to ten in the morning, and from seven to ten-thirty at night. If you suck up then you won't need a guard with you to take one, you'll just sign up on a clipboard. Now for that schedule," The blonde dug around in his pocket and pulled out a crinkled, folded up piece of paper that was half stained with coffee, giving it a yellow look. I crinkled me nose at it. "Hey, don't be bitchy about it." Please, Satan, just hit him. God appears to be elsewhere.

"After breakfast you either can go to the recreation room or outside, attend some lessons after that, some lunch, and then there's a mandatory gym class before dinner. Don't forget that medication will be distributed to you every morning to keep you psychos in control. Isn't it all lovely? Living in luxury while we normal people have to take care of you, working to just get by, and where do our tax dollars go? To feed your ungrateful crazy ass that's where!"

I crossed my arms in annoyance. His rant was really beginning to piss me off. Who the fuck does he think he is? Yeah, living in a ward where sedation is like being grounded and where people are always watching you carefully, waiting for you to slip up is  _such_  a fucking  _paradise_! I swear to God, if he doesn't shut up I'm going to flip shit. I have a short temper, but I guarantee that I keep myself moderately in check. So, only a few people have seen me really flip on someone. Those people are long gone though and probably don't remember me, but that's alright. Its better that they forget about me so that when they see the reports they won't be able to judge me based on the Lovino that they knew. Instead, they would see a teenager who they faintly recall, but can't remember. They would be told what he'd done and gasp in horror, judging him based on the information that had been speculated about him. Gah! I really hate it when my mind goes that way. I feel like such shit and I end up wanting to curl up under a rock.

"Hey, are you listening to me?" I felt his finger press on my scalp again. My momentary emo mood dispersed, leaving me irritated more than anything. Without thinking I smacked his hand away from me and fired off a string of curses. Unfortunately for me, I had been under the impression that the staff would not physically injure me unless I was getting out of control. Apparently I was wrong.

Pain exploded in my gut much like a bullet train would once it hit a concrete building. In all honesty, this wasn't the first time that this has happened, but you're never fully prepared for the pain no matter how many times it's happened. Of course, this wasn't enough to send me throwing up blood, though a part of me wished it was. That way this Bastardo might get in trouble with the higher ups or some shit, but knowing my luck those people would approve of this.

Anyway, I was sort of kneeling on the ground, trying to catch my breath while my good arm wrapped around my stomach, like it would really make a difference. Having my arm there was like a baby with a blanket, it served only to comfort.

"Awe, is the poor baby done bawling yet? All bark no bite." Mr. Rickerson sneered at me, reaching down to pat my head, "Does the baby need a bottle?"

I glared up at him, and no. I was not crying! I really wasn't, but that didn't stop the traitorous salt water from gathering in my eye ducts. I wouldn't let them spill, I wouldn't cry. What the fuck did I have to cry for? Pain in my gut? Was that all? I won't cry. No. There were more things to cry for, more things that hurt worse than this. This was minor in comparison to those. I gritted me teeth, "Fuck off."

The blonde man frowned at that, crossing his arms as he looked me in the eye as I stood. I re-crossed my own arms, glaring back at him as I tried to settle my slightly uneven breathing patterns. Right now it was too heavy, irregular and a definite give away that I was not yet fully recovered. He snickered at me then, putting his hands on his hips, "Still no bite,  _honey_."

I narrowed my eyes in agitation. He'd done it once earlier, but I had been too worked up over everything else to really notice. I don't know if you know, well I should since I'm think-talking to myself, but I hate when people call me hun or honey. It's somewhat of a long story, but you might hear it later at some point.

"Now skedaddle on to breakfast now. I wouldn't want the others to give me grief if you get yourself malnourished, _honey_." He smirked as I huffed and moved to pass him. Suddenly his hand lashed out and stopped me, leveling itself with my chest. "Don't forget your Looney pills." His hand opened, unveiling a tiny red and blue pill. He slid it into my hand and wouldn't let me leave until I dry swallowed it, the bastard.

Once he was satisfied I was finally allowed to leave my room. I walked to the cafeteria, wanting to eat something before facing the rest of the day. I grabbed a tray from the stack and slid it along the bars, letting these ladies put whatever they wanted on it. "What can I get ya, hun?" I glared at the lady, gritting my teeth as I answered. She looked surprised and a bit upset by my attitude, but I would guilt myself over that later, and she solemnly put some article of hot food on a plate before handing it to me. I took it and walked away from the line, gaze sweeping the tables, but couldn't find Matthew or Lukas. Great, probably got on their bad side by leaving so suddenly yesterday. Not like I care!

I snagged an empty table by the door and was content with eating by myself with an ever growing guilty feeling when someone sat down across from me. I looked up; ready to tell whoever it was to fuck off when I met a pair of red eyes. My first thought was that they had to be fake because red was not a natural eye color as far as I knew. Do they even allow colored contacts here?

"Kesesesesesese, captivated by my awesome eyes are you?" I blinked in shock, gaze snapping up to look at the guy. Besides from his red eyes I noticed that he was in fact an albino, which was pretty unsettling since he somewhat blended into the wall in the background, that or wearing a black T-shirt just made him look extremely pale. His hair also wasn't helping since it was a silvery color, like the rings of light around the moon He was like the moon, in a way, pale yet bright against the night sky. He also was slightly muscular, not scrawny or sickly thin, so I could slightly see the muscles through his shirt. It was slightly intimidating. I was such a fucking toothpick in comparison. "Done checking me out yet?"

My eyes snapped back to his and I felt my face heat up in embarrassment that I had been caught so obviously. Of course, I could only make it worse from there, "I was not checking you out, bastard!"

He lifted a silver brow, smirking as he stabbed his fork into one of my pancakes and quickly took a bite, "Sure you weren't."

"Bastard, get your own fucking food!" I yelled, using my plastic fork to stab the pancake he stole flat onto the table top. He kept his fork there, close to mine, his eyes challenging me to try and take it back. "Let go of my fucking pancake." He met my gaze evenly and smirked, "Make me."

We stayed like that for awhile, me glaring at him while he looked so fucking egotistical, like he'd already won or some shit. I really hated that look, so what else could I do but take my spoon and throw it at him and take back my pancake when he moved. The spoon even hit him in the nose, and while he didn't relinquish his fork I was able to tear the pancake away, leaving a small piece where his fork was. Hahaha, victory!

"That was so unawesome!" He complained, tossing the spoon back at me. I only smirked as I ate my pancake. I couldn't help it as my smirk grew even wider as he pouted, spewing something about how unawesome I was and whatnot. "That was an unfair move!"

"Shut the fuck up and eat." Yeah, I'm not much of a social person. I'm surprised the guy hasn't dumped his milk on my head and left. That happened once, well not to me, but I've seen it happen. It was at some point when I was maybe in fifth or sixth grade, and there was this one kid who would never shut up. I mean  _never_. He would talk and talk, and even interrupt the teacher and talk about something that wasn't even relevant to what we'd been learning. He swore a lot too, even more than me. Every other word was "fuck" or "Shit" and it got to the point that everyone would tell him to just shut up. Well, one day during lunch the kid was sitting with his two friends, and he ended up saying something and one of his friends got offended, but the kid wouldn't take it back. So, what else could his friend do but take his milk carton and dump it on the kid's head and then storm off. That was even worse than them getting into a fist fight because, yeah they got in trouble, but they never made up. The last I heard of them before I had to move again was that the kid still talked obnoxiously. Some people just never change.

"Hey, don't be unawesome!" I glanced up at the albino in surprise. Had he been addressing me? He rolled his eyes at me, possibly in agitation, but I played it off like I didn't care. "What the hell do you want?"

"That's an unawesome greeting! The awesome me was just trying to humble his new subject by telling you my name." I did a quick glance around our table, and when I didn't see anyone I realized he was talking about me. "Fuck no! I am no one's damn subject!"

"How about a servant?"

"Fuck no!" The albino nodded, "Yeah, you're too mouthy to be a servant." I could feel my eye twitching as he kept naming off positions, only to discard them and try to figure out a new one. "I got it!" I looked at him in agitation, ready for whatever amount of stupid was about to roll out of his mouth. "You're undecided!" I blinked. I expected this, but the amount of stupid had dwindled immensely into only a marble. Sure, I didn't want to have a position in whatever his fucked up reality was, but I'd rather be undecided. It shouldn't be harmful, I hope.

"That's it! I, Gilbert Beildshmidt, the king of awesome, proclaim you…" He looked at me expectantly, waiting and it took a moment before I figured out what he was waiting for. Well, if you can't beat them, then join them…momentarily anyway.

"Lovino."

"Proclaim you, Lovino, as undecided!" He lifted his spoon and laid it on my shoulder for a second before winking, "Just kidding." With that he burst into a fit of laughter.

"What the fucking hell, bastard!" It took a bit of time to register what he meant by that, but then it clicked. The whole king thing had been a rouse and I had believed it! That asshole!

"Kesesesesese, you fell for it! The awesome me is just  _so_  awesome." I rolled my eyes, "What the fuck ever."

He snickered, pointing his fork at me, "You should watch that mouth of yours. I wouldn't put it above some of the staff to try and wash it out."

Before I could reply and rip him a new one, Lukas saved the ass by arriving at the table. The silent teen drew Gilbert's attention immediately. And the expression was one of questionable surprise.

"I didn't know you were acquainted with the Ice king." He looked back at me, smirking but also curious. I looked to him to Lukas and then back to him before understanding, but like an idiot I had to open my mouth and ask, "Ice king?"

Gilbert's smirk grew a bit wider and he was trying to hold in his laughter while responding. To be honest all I caught was that Lukas was now an Ice Princess. When I took a side-look at the blonde the guy had bent his fork nearly in half. Noticing my gaze, he stopped and returned to eating like bending plastic forks was normal. What the fuck? Was the ice nobility thing a sort of inside joke about Lukas' character or did Lukas just not like the implication that he was a girl? Well, I wouldn't want to be a princess either. I'm a guy after all. I may lack the big muscles, but that does not mean that I'm any less of a man!

God damn it! Why have most of the people I've met so far have to be more muscular than me? Well, maybe not Lukas or Matthew. At least some people were in the same boat as me. Anyway, I ended up making small conversation with the two, even hitting that albino bastard when he started yelling profusely about his "awesome-ness" or something of that caliber. It was honestly a surprise that some worker hadn't run up to me for hitting him. Lukas must have noticed me looking around because he assured me that the workers are not going to rush over unless there was a brawl.

I went back to eating, mumbling some response or another. The food here was pretty good, given I've only been here two days. This place must really have some filthy rich sponsors to be this nice. All the prestigious schools I've ever attended did not have such good food; instead they had greasy pizza that was sure to kill you one day. But, even the food here wouldn't compare to my cooking…The few things that I do know how to make anyway. When younger, I had learned to make pizza and my brother had always wanted to eat pasta for some reason. I mean, I liked pasta too, but coming up with a new pasta dish every couple of days at my age was both taxing and frustrating. But it was worth it to see my brother's face when he ate it. He always looked so happy and would even ask to have seconds. I still have his top favorite dishes of mine memorized. It's only a memory, but I never want to forget it…those times so long ago.

Shit! I can feel my eyes starting to water. I choked the emotion down and returned to eating my food instead of idly messing with it like I apparently have been for the last few minutes. Che, when did I stop eating automatically?

"Oh mon cher~ who is this?" Lukas' and Gilbert's eyes snapped to something behind me. Gilbert opened his mouth, only managing to get out, "Francis, don't-"but his sentence was left unfinished. I felt two arms wrap around my neck, resting on my shoulders. Blonde wavy hair fell into my view and the new guy was laughing a stupid, French sounding laugh. I was frozen on spot, eyes wide before my body seemed to remember that this guy needed to get the fuck off of me. What is it with people and touching me anyway?

"Get the fuck off me you perverted cheese-smelling bastard! Who the fuck do you think you are?" I cursed at him, breaking away from his hold. As I was screaming at him I started to notice that people were staring at me, but not in the way a person would normally stare at someone making a public scene. They, at least Gilbert and Lukas, looked genuinely surprised, but it wasn't at the situation. It was as if they are searching for something, but I don't really care at this point.

I stop talking and instead focus on breathing for a few handfuls of seconds before storming out of the cafeteria. I forgot my tray on the way out, but that was the least of my worries. I wanted to leave those strange stares behind me and just stop thinking for awhile. I somehow ended up in the recreation center where some worker lady patiently ushered me towards an available table. She handed me some materials for drawing and asked if I would draw whatever I wanted. I didn't really bother listening to her after a few minutes. I took up the pencils and just stared blankly, unsure about what I wanted to draw.

My brother was the artist of the family. When he wanted to draw some he drew it, and it was always simply amazing. I, however, was not the artistic type. Sure, I can draw some things, but never on my brother's caliber. Instead, I had somehow developed more of a taste for music among other things. I often, in those days, felt that my brother was loved more. To be honest I'm probably not too far from the truth. I was and still can be clumsy and I used to suck at normal chores. From then to now I've only improved in not knocking over bookshelves, cleaning up certain materials, and taking out the trash. My brother was always good with those things though I'm unsure if that's really a good thing.

I was often overshadowed by my brother. I would fade into the back like a wallflower, waiting to be acknowledged. My parents did love me, I know that for a fact, but Feliciano was just another chance to fix the mistakes they had made with me. Parents always have some stumbles with their first kid and so when the second comes around they have more of an idea of what to do. I don't like to think of it too much, but my brother was better for them. He was healthy, cute, social, and so sweet it hurt. They deserved a son like Feliciano.

I moved away from those thoughts, not wanting to dwell on them too long less I remember the conversation I wasn't meant to overhear. My thoughts soon drifted back and forth from the past to the present. A part of me wondered what the future would be like and if I would ever be able to leave here.

"Lovino?" I snapped to attention, my eyes whipping over to find the one who had called my name. I spotted them right away. How could I not have? "Lovino, it is you!" The girl exclaimed, rushing over and hugging me tightly to her in glee.

She was one of the two girls who had beaten that one guy up when I was almost fourteen! "Bella? Holy shit, what the hell are you doing here?" I replied back like the surprised Italian I am.

She released me only to pull me into a seat, taking the one next to me and turning the chair towards me before sitting herself. She looked a bit worried and upset. "What am I doing here? What are  _you_ doing here?" I sighed at her stern tone, knowing that I was in for some sort of punishment unless I had some valid explanation.

Instead, I avoided her gaze. "I would rather not talk about it."

When I had first met Bella she was an intimidating, pretty Belgian girl who had lived in America for years. She was just another face until I lost that stupid bet. When I grew to know her I found out that she was actually a loving person with a mother hen like disposition. I usually don't like people touching me, but I'm actually happy that she had placed her hands on mine. She was still the same Bella.

"Lovino, I know it's hard but you can tell me anything without fear of reproach. You're my friend, no matter how long it's been." I gave her a shaky smile, and thought it through before shaking my head. "If you want to know, then check the news reports from two weeks ago. You won't miss it." "Lovino, you know that I don't trust those news stations!" Bella argued, but I gave her hands a squeeze, something I only do for her; my friend. She seemed to understand the message since she started to prattle on about something else.

I didn't ask her why she was in here, though I really wanted to know how someone as "normal" as she was could be in such a place. More and more people began to arrive as the time flowed forward, but to me it felt like it would never be enough. I hadn't seen Bella in years, but already it felt like I had just seen her yesterday. Some people just instantly click, I guess.

"Hey, who's you assigned counselor?" Bella suddenly asked me.

"Some bastard named Rickerson." Her face went a little pale, but she turned her face away so that her dirty gold short hair covered the side of her face that was facing me. I didn't know what to do but babble on about how the man was a pain, and she laughed a few times, but the look in her green eyes was nearly asking me for forgiveness. Why would she even need forgiveness from me?

At that moment Dr. Amra arrived and was coming towards us. "Bella, Lovino how are you both today?" I watched Bella's reaction and was happy to know that she also trusted this doctor.

"Fine and dandy," She replied. I only grunted a response. "Lovino, would you come with me for a few minutes? It's just a minor check-up."

Well, I don't think I have another choice. I got up and followed the doctor to the infirmary. He had me sit down on a table and chatted briefly with me as he went about checking my ears and blood pressure. "I heard there was an incident in the cafeteria earlier. Are you alright?" I glanced over at him and shrugged, indicating that it was no big deal. It wasn't the first time I had cussed someone out today. To be honest I probably wouldn't have minded the French-y guy, but people have just been touching me too much and…something was strange about him. It was only for a faint second but I felt like some sort of electricity had shot through my shoulder. But quick as the shock had come it disappeared. And that's when I went off on the guy.

"How was your counselor?" He asked nearly hesitant, looking away as he made a detour to wash his hands, again.

I grimaced at the memory of the blonde asshole and crossed my arms. "An annoying pain in the fucking ass." Yup, that about sums it up.

The doctor chuckled a little before trying to cover it up with a cough. He turned back to me and produced a needle. I stared at it, shifting uncomfortably. Did I mention that I don't like needles? I think I did once, but let me just reiterate it: I fucking hate needles!

"Sorry, but I have to inject a flu shot. Your record states that you haven't had one in two years, correct?" He looked sympathetic, but for some reason I had a feeling that it wasn't because I was getting a flu shot. I don't know why, but something inside me was screaming that something wasn't right here, that whatever was in that syringe was no flu vaccine. Yet I still let the doctor inject it, only wincing when the liquid began to slowly move through my arm like acid.

"See, that wasn't so bad." Something was wrong with his smile. It was too sad, too full of emotion.

I jumped off the table and rolled my sleeve back down. I was led to some sort of classroom like place where I would be having a "lesson" since I should still be in school. I didn't spot anyone I knew. All the window seats were occupied so I picked a seat closest to the door, just in case. I sat there, idly wondering how I'm supposed to take lessons when I don't have any materials to take notes with. I wasn't too concerned with it, since I couldn't fathom were a crazy person would ever get a job. I can just see the employer's face if he were to read my résumé; WARNING: Mentally Insane. Please proceed with caution. Yeah. And my résumé goes into the trash without a second glance.

Well, I guess taking lessons shouldn't be too bad. I mean at least it's something to do. Seriously, doing nothing would make anyone go insane…well more so than they apparently are.

A guy, surprise surprise, sat down next to me. He was lightly humming some fast beat tune to himself, tapping his hands against the desk in rhythm. Within a moment he was mumbling words in some Asian sounding language. I sat there for another thirty seconds before smacking his hand onto the table in annoyance.

"Yeowch!" He squeaked, turning his head towards me, "What was that for?"

"Stop fucking drumming." I replied back, glaring at him.

He gave me a look of disbelief before starting to take something out of his pocket, still talking to me, "What! How can I stop? Have you heard their newest song? It's amazing!" He stretched out an ear bud to me and I hesitantly took it and put it to my ear. A song was playing and it was near techno like, but the language was distinctly the one the guy had been mumbling earlier.

"What are they speaking?" I ended up asking, tapping my own hand in time to the beat of the song.

"Korean, daze!" I could only stare as he began to ramble on about how great South Korea, his homeland, was and how stuff originated in him. He attached "daze" to most of his claims, but I ignored it the best I could. I'm Italian and I talk fast, but this guy was just a ball of fucking energy! He just talked and gave the appearance of talking fast, but really he was just spouting random things. I was ready to tell him to shut up, and it so did not deal with the fact that I couldn't hear the song! But someone did it for me.

"Im Yong Soo, are you done yet?" The "teacher" inquired from the board in the front of the room. He tapped his foot impatiently, glaring at the young man. The Korean teen had the decency to look embarrassed. He scratched the back of his head and apologized as he turned off his iPod.

For the next hour I had to suffer through some math lesson with insistent tapping and whispering from Yong Soo. To be honest, talking with him wasn't bad…It was fun, in a way, and nearly getting caught was like passing notes in school all over again. Of course the only notes I was ever passed were some inquiries about a problem, an event, or some taunts.

"Lovino Powell, is there something you would like to share with the class?" The teacher asked impatiently.

I winced at the last name, but glared at the teacher as I shook my head. I didn't say another word the rest of class, though a part of me wanted to spite the teacher and talk again, but my mood had been soiled. Powell…is not my real last name.

And I don't deserve that surname.

Once sixty minutes were up we shifted classes with new people and while I still had Yong Soo with me Matthew joined us. For another hour I had to listen to the teacher drone on about some time period in history that I was not really listening to. Instead I doodled on my notebook that was given to me and copied notes here and there.

After I only had one more class before lunch; language arts or, commonly known as English. In this class I at least had Lukas with me, and the class would have been tolerable, even one of my favorites. But there was just one small  _undesirable_  problem that came in the form of a stupid Spaniard who would not, for fuck's sake, stop poking me and fucking talking to me about random shit!

"Hey, mi amigo, isn't the weather nice today? Do you need to copy any notes? You can copy mine! They're un poco messy, but not illegible!" There were more specks of Spanish crossed throughout his speech, but that's the general gist.

I would have told him no and to shove his notes and  _amigo_  up his ass, but Lukas seemed to shut him up. All Lukas had to do was slide his notebook towards me, which is his way of saying that I can copy his notes. I began to copy the neat notes down while Lukas continued to look at the board with a small smirk. I wasn't too sure what that idiot behind me was doing, but thankfully the teacher arrived before he could launch off more strings of annoying questions.

For a language arts class being taught to a bunch of patients, I was surprised to see that this teacher, Ms. Raja, was treating us all like regular students rather than…well, crazy people. She started off by handing me a notebook and a few handouts that I would need to bring every class. After the introduction she went on to start talking about plays and some project we would have within the next couple of weeks.

I would have paid better attention but that asshole behind me wouldn't stop trying to get my attention. By the end of class I had about ten crumpled up balled notes and half a mind to kick the dumbass in his family jewels. It was only during the last ten minutes of class that I threw back one of the notes, having written  _Go the fuck away you Bastardo!_  In rapid Italian, this thankfully shut him up for the rest of the time. The dumbass was probably trying to translate it or some shit.

Anyway, class ended and Lukas, sensing that the ass was being annoying, evaded him by walking abruptly out of the room with me at his side. The weird part is that people actually moved for him. It wasn't like he split the red sea or anything like that, but most students just moved a bit for us to squeeze through.

*Lunch*

I sat down at the table with my tray, silently beginning to start eating while Lukas and Matthew also joined me not a few minutes later. It was idle chatter for a few minutes until I realized that I had forgotten a fork. I stood up and went to go get the stupid plastic eating utensil when I ended up being rammed into by someone.

Now picture this: you're walking along, minding your own business, trying to fetch a fork and suddenly BAM! There's pudding, mashed potatoes, and some other mashed up foods all over the front of your shirt and dripping onto the floor. Now imagine your surprise when the perpetrator doesn't even say sorry, instead, he just stands there and watches you for a good thirty seconds. I swear to God, I tried to hold in my anger and all over embarrassment, but this asshole wasn't even fucking doing  _anything_! He was just staring at me with stupid blue fucking eyes while his stupid potatoes were staining a shirt that wasn't even mine!

"Watch the fuck where you're going, potato bastard!" I swore at him more in Italian, resisting the urge to punch his stupid chiseled jaw. In any other situation his advantage in height and muscle build would have scared me, but this bastard ruined my clothes! This means war.

Remember what I said earlier about hating people? Of course you do, I'm narrating to myself. Well, that applies here as well. I really dislike this dumbass standing in front of me like a fucking statue. End of story.

"Hey, calm down." I glanced back at Matthew who was now standing beside me nervously. "Come on, I heard someone earlier saying that your things arrived." I nodded and turned away from the stupid blonde, hoping his stupid hair gel would catch fire, and followed Matthew out of the cafeteria while reminding myself that sedation was not pretty nor was it worth it. I could hear Lukas follow behind us and we paused to let him catch up to us before continuing the trek back to my room.

When I walked into the room I was inwardly delighted to see my violin case on the bed. I would have taken it out and played it if it wasn't for the fact that I had potato all over me. I instead changed course and settled on my two suitcases. I opened one and began to look through it for something suitable to wear. Hey, I may be in a ward but that doesn't mean I've lost my sense of fashion!

"Gym clothes." Lukas stated while glancing at my belongings that were now somewhat sprawled on the floor. I nodded as I set aside a track suit that was bought for me when I lived with some sport nuts family before pulling out a long-sleeved maroon shirt and a pair of brown pants. I was caught up in getting these disgusting potatoes off me that I just changed without too much thought. It wasn't until I had already finished that I remembered the other two were there, but thankfully they had looked away. It's not like I'm embarrassed about my body or anything!

Anyway, I grabbed a knack sack and stored the gym clothes inside along with some tennis shoes. We stopped by Matthew's and Lukas' rooms to put a few things away or retrieve a few things before deciding to go to the recreation room.

As we neared the door Bella called out to me nervously, "Hey, Lovino. How was your first day of classes? Good, well why don't we talk about it outside?"

I glanced at her quizzically, "Bella, what the hell?"

She shifted her eyes from the recreation room door to me before looking down and then back at me. "Lovino, as a friend I'm warning you to be careful. I know you're going to go in no matter how much I try to stop you, but please remember that…Everything…It's twisted and complicated."

I wasn't sure what she meant, but now I know that there's something on the other side of this door for me to see. I grasped the knob and pretended to nonchalantly open it. I took a step in, glancing around the room before freezing right there on spot.

For years I had dreamt of this moment in painful sadness, had only toyed with the idea while feeling like the jaws of despair would swallow me whole. Yet, when I saw him it felt so much different than I had imagined. My words were choked and I could barely breathe and my heart was wrenching painfully at the slightest possibility that I could be mistaken.

"Feliciano," the name escaped my mouth in a near whisper but the figure paused and slowly, near agonizingly turned to look at me with wide golden eyes. "L-Lovino?"

I took another step closer, but he took one back and away from me. "Wait, stop." And I listened and waited in disbelief as he seemed to be trying to find words, but in hindsight I should have never walked through that door, for his next words broke my heart.

"Stay away from me. I-I hate you."

And I could feel a part of myself shatter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Character(s):  
> Fatimah Raja-Malaysia


	5. Pitch Black Refrain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is what happens when I listen to .flow music.

"I hate you."

The words echoed in the room and I could feel it grip my heart. So many thoughts are racing through my head, but the only thing that manages to come out of my numb throat is, "What?" It's a soft, silent, choked whisper of disbelief. I watch as he turns to stare at the ground and I hunger to see his eyes again. Eyes I haven't seen in nearly forever. He bites his lip before looking me straight in the eye with condemning anger.

"I hate you. I hate you! Why didn't you die? You're better off dead!"

I can feel my mind come to a complete halt, as if it were a computer that was frozen. And like a computer that was frozen with no signs of melting someone would have to turn it off. As I froze, everything around me seemed to slow down. I could clearly see Bella moving over to Feliciano, her finger raised and her mouth moving, the creases a clear indication that she was angry. However, I could hear nothing that escaped her mouth.

I felt shivers tearing at my back like nails, and there was a dull thud in my head. I'm not so stupid as to not notice the signs. I would have to put an end to this. I needed to get out of this room, this small suffocating room. When exactly had it gotten so small? Why are the lights dimming? When did  _that thing_ get here?

I need to leave.

I need to leave.

Now.

Now.

Now.

_NOW._

"Lovi…Lovino!" I opened my eyes (When had I closed them?) and looked at Matthew who was grabbing both my wrists. When had I cupped my hands over my ears? I slowly lowered my hands, and stared at my palms that were shaking. Okay, so I freaked out a little, but everything was ok. No one was hurt-well, no one but my feelings- and there was no blood. No blood, good. That's always good.

I looked back up into Matthew's worried eyes as he slowly released by wrists. It was then I realized that everything was normal again. I looked over at Bella who was just about to release a whole boatload of chidings on Feliciano.

"Bella, stop," My own voice was soft, nearly unintelligible, like Matthew's, but she paused looking back at me. "It's fine, just stop."

She looked dubious. "But Lovino-"

"Enough, please?" I hated how my voice cracked, how the firm tone I wanted had turned soggy and limp. I needed to leave this room, it still wasn't safe. Without another word I turned around and left, not bothering to look back or to care if anyone followed me. I wanted to be alone. I needed to be alone. It was safer to be by myself.

In the end, I found the safest place to hide at the moment, my own room. I huddled up in the closet with the lights off and closed my eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay. This was messed up. My brother, cute little Feliciano, was  _here_. Of all the places! When I had been transferred from Italy to America I had thought that it was the end. That Feli and Nonno were really dead, that there was no more hope for finding them, that I really was the only one who survived. I had been nearly content, but something in my gut always told me that he was still alive, that my baby brother was still breathing regardless of how far we were apart, even if it was an ocean's distance.

Now, it's just so warped and illogical that we would meet again in a place like this. How long had he been here anyway? What had he done to get submitted here? Had he been eating alright? All the questions I'd been wanting to ask bubbled and boiled over, drowning me in all my worries that centered on my brother.

" _I hate you. I hate you! Why didn't you die? You're better off dead!"_

It burned. The words were burning, engraving themselves into my heart, eating through my dreams of reunification. It hurt. It hurt so much that it was nearly unbearable, but the tell tale signs of numbing weren't far off. I could feel it in the recesses of my mind, along with the stirrings of  _it._

This wasn't happening!  _It_ wasn't going to reawaken, not now. I feel like I just died, but there's no way in hell I'd let  _it_  hurt Feli…I love him too much.

Fuck! I'm not some girl involved in some stupid love affair! There's no way in god damn mother fucking heaven or hell that  _it_ is  _ever_ going to touch my baby brother, I don't give a flying fuck as to how much he hates me! I'll never kill him. Ever. I'm his big brother! I helped dress him, I woke up our parents when he would cry in the middle of the goddamn night, I showed him how to play with blocks, showed him that throwing blocks at big brother is a bad idea, that there are no monsters under the bed when I'm around, and we used to eat pasta together. I have so many memories of how we once were, even if I was always sick and kind of a jerk.

However, even with my resolve, I still feel like utter shit. I mean, it really hurts when your own flesh and blood declare that they hate you. It's hard to recover from that type of emotional hit. So, for the next hour, in which I had nothing to do, I stayed in that closet. I dare someone to make a fucking joke about coming out of the closet, I dare you! God, I can hear those perverts now.

Anyway, after that hour I reemerged, knowing I had to attend my stupid gym class. This stupid physical exercise would be an hour and twenty god awful minutes. I changed my clothes, not caring that everyone else would probably change in some smelly locker room.

The gym was rather well kept, the floors waxed and free of scuff marks. So far I was the only one finished changing and the only other occupant was Mr. Hammon, the gym teacher. Honestly, all these teachers were pretty good looking, and this one was no exception. He had dark skin, blue eyes, medium length spiked brown hair, and an X shaped scar on his cheek. Jesus, his right ear was even pierced.

"Checking the teach' out?" I jumped in surprise, whirling around to be greeted with ruby eyes and a smug ass smirk of non other than Gilbert. I ignored the heat that rose to my cheeks at being caught, covering it up with my normal crude attitude.

"What the fuck is your problem you bastard! You don't fucking sneak up on people, Jesus!" He lifted one silvery brow, stupid fucking smirk still on his face as he laughed at me. That stupid bastard with his stupid…Face! God, I can't even come up with a proper comeback in my own mind!

"Alright, line up!" I jumped slightly again at the teacher's loud, commanding voice. If I didn't know better I would think he would sound like one of those guys from the movie  _300_ , the guy who yells orders and gives those silly speeches that seem to last forever, but never fail to build up the audience's tension.

I followed Gilbert over to the baselines, calling "here" when the teacher called my name, hiding my flinch when he said my last name. Gilbert gave me a strange look, but I ignored him, opting to stare at the ugly gym floor, inspecting it for dust.

For the duration of this retarded activity, I was forced to run five laps, play baseball-which my team lost-and in the last fifteen minutes of this heinous class, Mr. Hammon declared that we would all be playing dodge ball…Fucking peachy! I wasn't even surprised that I was nearly picked last, what with my broken wrist and the bandages adorning my fucking head, I was an obvious target. Honestly, I can throw, but not so well enough to hit aloof players that know I'm coming. I've played this game multiple times-school's a fucking bitch-but that doesn't make me a great player, if anything I was a better dodger. Well, at least I can thank bullies and tormentors for  _that._  Still, I'm not that bad of a player, but I can't throw with this wrist and I am, for lack of a better word, the new kid, so these guys will probably single me out. Fucking lovely.

The game started and a few players from each team, the fastest and the ones who could throw accurately, ran to grab at the eight balls that were positioned in the middle of the gym floor. For the next ten seconds us non-we–were-forced-into-this-players mauled around to dodge the balls thrown our way, nearly bumping into each other in an attempt to find a human shield. My hypothesis about me being singled out was fairly accurate, in those first ten seconds of mayhem all the other players on my team scurried away from me, leaving me open to the on slot of rubber. Assholes.

Luckily, like I said before, I'm a pretty good dodger. I ducked, moved out of the way, and ran toward my asshole teammates, thus making them scatter around me so as to try and avoid being hit. Still, I'd rather have it being like this than the intensity that popped up after those seconds. A few of the opposing players seemed to have vendettas against each other, resulting in beaming and one kid was hit so hard that his nose started bleeding. Well, I'm going to be fucked if one of these brutes hit me. It also didn't help that Gilbert was laughing like a goddamn maniac, throwing balls in my general direction whenever he wasn't knocking some other kid out.

It was bound to happen, but eventually I was hit by Bella of all people. I don't really think she meant to, but she had beamed the ball and hit me right in the head where my wounds were the tenderest. I winced and made my way to the sidelines, looking up when Bella shouted my name, only to see a ball coming right at me.

In that second my vision seemed to slow, but my heart rate increased. I could feel my eyes widening, my body nearly frozen, unsure as to what to do. All that processed was that the ball was going to hit me, probably in the face or head. One moment I was awaiting impact, but then I blinked and suddenly the ball was slowly elevating, just brushing the top of my head. I don't know why but, in that second before impact I looked over at Gilbert. He was staring intently, eyes focused on the ball, and something flashed there. I wasn't able to question it as Bella had appeared before me, saying something along the lines of "you're bleeding," but my eyes stayed locked with Gilberts until he looked away.

Mr. Hammon gently griped my shoulder, surveying the reddening bandages, before calling out to a girl sitting on the side lines, "Lili, could you take Lovino to see Dr. Amra, please?"

I looked over, watching a smaller sized girl get to her feet and make her way over. In my short time here, I've encountered many blondes, such as Matthew, Lukas, Matthias, fucking Rickerson, that French guy from earlier, and Bella. However, Lukas and this little girl had fairer blonde hair, with Lukas' just being a bit lighter than this "Lili." She was shorter than me, petite, had big green eyes, and an almost bob-like haircut that seemed to fit her. She's cute, in my opinion.

"Yes, Mr. Hammon," her gaze drifted to me and I followed her out the gym doors. While walking she glanced back at me curiously, but politely. Still, I was never one for being very patient, "What? Is there something on my face?" I try not to swear in front of women…unless it's Bella, but only because she sometimes curses like a sailor.

She jumped a little at the sudden noise, apologizing for being nosey. I sighed, "What is it?"

Her fingers met each other as she tried not to stutter, "Well, it's just that I heard you were d-dangerous," her face then turned red, her hands clasped before her, "But, I don't think you are, not anymore."

I wanted to laugh, fall over and laugh until my gut hurt, and then laugh more. This little girl, she doesn't know me…she doesn't know what I may have done, what my sins are, and yet…Here she is, telling me that she doesn't think I'm dangerous. A part of me wanted to laugh at her; another part was crying.

I found myself sputtering, trying to hide the tiny smile that was fighting its way onto my face. Since  _that day_ , I've been seen as a threat, as a psychopath, as  _dangerous_. I don't know whether to laugh or cry at her naïveté, but I thanked whoever was up there for smiling on me, if only for just a second.

We arrived at the infirmary, running into Ms. Vilamaris. She wrote Lili a note, excusing me for the rest of gym class, before leading me into a room. I plopped down in a chair, only wincing when she pressed down on the tender area. "I'm sorry; I'm not as efficient as Suraj." She grabbed a new role of gauze and placed in on the counter, taking down a bottle of peroxide and a few cotton balls after. She began dabbing at the area and I started wincing, not enjoying the sting that followed each dab or the way I could feel it bubbling.

"How are you holding up?" I closed my eyes, sighing in exasperation, "That bad, huh?" I didn't bother opening my eyes, so I nodded just a fraction. I could hear her sigh as she wrapped the gauze around my head. When she finished I opened my eyes, only for them to widen when she was bending down before me, hands on her knees. Her eyes were worried and cloudy…maybe even guilty?

"Lovino," I looked up into her eyes, but wanted to look away. "Listen very closely, alright?" She didn't wait for me to agree before continuing, "These next few days are going to be rough, really, really rough on you, in mind, body, and soul. I know that it'll be hard, but you shouldn't ever give in. There will always be people who think they can use you, think that you're weak, or that you're useless, but everything is not what it seems. Please, keep in mind that not everyone is your enemy and that there are people who care." She stood up straight, gently rustling my hair on the side that wasn't massacred in white bandages. She smiled sadly, like the one that she gave me when I first met her.

I only gave a hesitant nod, unsure of what her words meant, but I definitely knew that Bella had said that too, that everything is "not what it seems," but what did that mean? I let it go for the moment, my head throbbing from its abuse.

"Huh, you should probably go replenish your energy levels. It's time for dinner to start…I wonder if they'll have those little cakes I like…" I almost laughed at Ms. Vilamaris, not expecting her to have a thing for sweets…or to say something out of the blue like that. As I was standing up I froze, the edges of my vision blurring together, my brain began to send out stabs of pains throughout my head, like fucking little knives being driven in and twisted around. My eyes began to itch and burn, tears building up from the constant pain. I placed my palms over them, but nothing was helping, and at this stage nothing could.

The calls of Ms. Vilamaris faded out, even though I knew she was still calling, and then the lights flashed.

* * *

It passed me in a blur of color, a mix of voices, and a myriad of emotions all conformed into just a few series of flashes that only lasted seconds. In those few measly seconds I tried to take it all in, to distinguish any noticeable features, recording what I could before it disappeared. It always left me with a lagging feeling, nausea, and disorientation. What I had processed would slowly rewind and replay at a normal speed, but most of the times it would be spotty and certain details might be absent. This never happened when I was younger, but I guess trying to suppress it makes you fall out of practice, fucking great.

Oddly enough I hadn't awoken yet. Instead, I was here in this pitch black space, alone. Everywhere I looked there were endless walls of nothing, there was no way out. In a panic, I swiveled around, and then began to try and run when I felt something behind me. I don't know how far I got in this stupid fucking abyss, but I tripped over something…How the fuck did I trip over nothing?

When I sat up, I could no longer move, terror gripping my every feature. All around me the abyss had been dyed vermillion. It was on my hands, staining them, soiling them with mirth. I could faintly see something just before me, strands of black hair. When I looked up, even though I didn't want to, I nearly threw up.

They stared back at me…all of them did. Each with their glass eyes, and they looked like nothing more than simple toys, props, but there was a large difference. A jaw would slowly drop, torn and ragged, and cry out. The once smooth plastic was burned and cracked, the bare dolls torn into shreds. Moans of agony filled that space, and I can only stare at them in absolute fear. It wasn't my fault. It wasn't my fault. It wasn't my fault!

"Why? Why? Why did you do it?" The voices cry back, circling around me.

**MuR** _**DeR! MuRdER!** _

"No, I-I…" I curled into myself, cupping my hands over my ears, desperate to wake up from this nightmare. I don't want to be here!

"No, I'm not a murderer! Shut up! Stop it!"

Fingers wrapped tightly around my ankle, and I looked down at it. Those eyes, once lively are now dull, dead, and betrayed. "Why," the voice moaned pitifully, its other hand trying to reach for my face, but the fingers were black, and crumbled, leaving only stubs. "Why did you kill me?"

"I-I d-didn't…No.." I started, but my voice is hoarse and it comes out desperately. It looks to be trying to say something else, but then the head comes clean off, rolling into my lap. It looks up at me, eyes missing, crying rivers of endless black and red blood, the substance also coming from its mouth, mumbling "Why?" over and over.

More hands reach for me, and I scream out, flinging the head away from me. I try to back up, but my hands continue to slip on the fluid. They're surrounding me, reaching towards me, accusing me, and all I'm able to do is cry, screaming back that I hadn't meant too. This wasn't supposed to happen. I didn't do it.

"I didn't do it!" I curl up again, trying to protect myself as a hand came slashing towards me, another clawing at my leg.

**GoOD. eVEnINInG.**

Chills rack my back as they all are torn to shreds, blood splattering. They fall to the ground, their remains making small thuds upon impact. I still can't move. The new threat is standing just behind me, their hands tracing my spine before lightly touching my hair almost lovingly, their cold breath whispering in my ear.

**MIsS mE, lOve? I MiSsED yOU.**

Their voice was like treading through water, disoriented and felt like it was coming from a few feet away rather than right behind me. One of their hands gently slid down to lightly grasp my broken wrist, the other staying in my hair, softly stroking my bandages.

**PoOR bABy, what happened,** _**DaRLInG?** _

It was a sarcastic drawl, that I know, but I still can't move a single muscle. I can't open my mouth to scream, I can barely breathe. I don't know why this is happening, why I can't move, or why my heart burns as if it were thrown into the seven hells and then rung through the wringer.

**It hUrTS, dOEsN't iT?**

_It_  slowly moved its hand that was formally on my head to my unbroken wrist, griping it softly, the other sliding up to place itself on my head. The heat in my chest only burned worse as my silent panic started to escalate. I couldn't see it, but when they pressed their lips to my ear, I could feel their smile.

**pOIsOn RUnS lIKE a FAcTOrY.**

I was suddenly turned around, my knee making a squelching noise when it hit the wet, stained ground. My body was angled awkwardly, almost painfully, and if it wasn't for the heat dying in my heart I would never have noticed that my lips had been captured. The sudden frost cooled me, crashing like a wave over my body, leaving me grasping for comprehension, but once it wore off I began to tremble from the cold. I almost missed the heat.

I felt a harsh onslaught of pain just before the familiar metallic flavor filled my mouth. I could no longer breathe, so I was forced to swallow my own fucking blood, but it felt different, strange. It didn't burn on its way down; instead it felt like it was leaving ice in its wake. A crack filled the air and I tried to scream, but it was muffled by the lips glued to my own. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to cease the tears that rose to them from falling. This bastard broke my other wrist!

_It_  finally retracted, allowing me to breathe, but it still held me close, pressing me to them. My breaths came out in white puffs, my eyes were watery and cloudy, and I was trembling, freezing. My body was stiff, my fingers would barely move, my new broken wrist ached, and I just kneeled there in _its_  arms, worn.

**lEt'S pLaY a GaME.**

Their hand caressed my hair, the other holding my waist. The words were whispered in my ear, but I could do nothing but try to breathe. The fucking place had become a freezer. It's so dark and blood still lingered on the ground, but I could barely see it.  _It_  moved me so that I could see in the same direction, but I had to hold  _it_  so as not to fall. However, I could still barely see, but I managed to make out Ms. Vilamaris lying on the ground.

"No," I tried to say, but I could no longer speak. My mouth was stiff and cold. My throat felt frozen, and my breathing became weaker. I couldn't even turn my head away or move my eyes that felt as if they were frozen, meant to stay open for the rest of eternity.

Harsh fingers dug into my scalp, tearing at the stitches and bandages. Those same fingers ripped at the sides of my face, reopening any wounds it could lay its hands onto. The pain was heinous, but I wasn't even allowed to black out or even fight back, I was frozen and this was a different reality. Still, I could not let it harm Ms. Vilamaris. She had just been trying to help me, to make me feel welcome.

**sHE pITiEd yOU. CuTE, wITtLe FEli, hE hAtES YOu.**

Those cold hands tore into my scalp again, digging into the most sensitive part. I breathed harder, my throat trying to break the ice that blanketed it and scream in despair and pain. I could see small black spots speckling my already cloudy vision, but the pain was clear, though I felt numb. My fingers would no longer even twitch for me.

**ThEY hAtE yoU BuT, I wILl aLWAyS lOvE YoU.**

My face was pulled closer to  _its_  so that he could plant a chaste, ice-y kiss on my forehead. It was almost soft and nearly warm, but I could no longer feel anything but numb.

**KiLl tHeM. AlL tHeY dO Is HuRT YoU.**

Words were whispered to me as my face was stroked. I could faintly see something red cascading below my eyes, the source coming from somewhere above my eyebrows…It was probably my head, but I felt lethargic. All I want to do is sleep this all away, this pain.

"Lo…"

My eyelids felt so heavy, but I couldn't close them. I-I think I heard something, but who could it be?

"Lovin...!"

There it was again, that strange voice…Who was calling? I want to know. They sound almost familiar, but who would call for  _me?_

"Lovino!"

**ShH, My CHILd, IT Is NOOnE. SLEep.**

That voice was getting farther away, the new one growing closer to me. I-I can almost hear them, whoever it is, but what do they want from me?

"Lovi! Lovi!" Who the hell? A Spanish accent? That couldn't be right?

**CLoSE YouR EYeS!**

That voice calling me…I've heard it before. There was a guy who had a Spanish accent, someone I had recently met. His name…What was his name? Images flooded my mind that consisted of Matthew, Lukas, Dr. Amra, Ms. Vilamaris, Im Yong Soo, Bella, and Feliciano, and then, Gilbert and Antonio.

The voice started to grow louder and the numbness I once felt started to subside. Within my cloudy vision I could see someone standing over me, reaching out a hand towards me. It took every last bit of my strength to lift up my own arm and grasp that person's hand. It was warm, their hand, and my eyes finally allowed me to succumb to my escape.

* * *

I awoke with a lurch, erratically breathing when I came to be sitting all the way up. My eyes flitted around, trying to recognize anything familiar. After a few seconds I easily recognized the room to be that of the one I was in before hand with Ms. Vilamaris.

Ms. Vilamaris! Was she alright? I remember seeing her  _there,_ on the floor. What happened? Had she been hurt?

A hand was placed on my shoulder, and I jumped like a fucking aloof cat, my head snapping to see who it was, but I felt almost calmer when I saw that it was just Matthew. He stared at me in relief, small unshed tears gathering in his eyes. I don't know what happened, but pretty soon the Canadian was hugging me.

"Thank God, you're alright!" He breathed out, looking more relieved than he had five seconds ago. "I-we thought that you were really going to…" he trailed off, opting to let go and pick up his polar bear and hug that.

I looked at him dumbly, "What do you mean? We?" I looked passed him and noticed that Gilbert was seated in one of the plain plastic chairs, passed out. Lukas was seated in the other, Matthias sitting next to him; the two were also asleep and were leaning against one another.

I couldn't help but to think that the scene was pretty cute. What? I can call things cute if I fucking want too! That doesn't make me girly or some shit, I mean it's just that it's obvious that those two really get along, despite the fact that Lukas is always choking the taller man with his tie. Really, you'd have to be blind or highly oblivious not to notice it. Well anyway, the thing I could hardly believe is that they're all here, in the infirmary with me, and judging by the absence of light coming through the window, it had to be pretty late at night.

I blinked in surprise when I felt someone shift near my legs, and I hastily drew my legs in. I stared at the mop of brown curls, slowly taking in the rest of him before I recognized him as that bastard Antonio.

Matthew seemed to follow my eyes because he said, "He was the first here. Ms. Vilamaris didn't know what to do when you…anyway, she ran out to get Dr. Amra to help her, and he happened to overhear. The rest of us heard about it from umm Bella, so we hurried over here."

"Why the rush?" I wanted to snicker but, Matthew gave me such a melancholy glance that was almost…pained.

"Lovino, don't take the pills Mr. Rickerson gives to you," his voice was soft, but carried a firmness that I had yet heard from the teen. "Please, that can't happen again."

Well, fuck! Some serious shit had to of happened to me, but I can't remember too much of it. I remember fainting, and I knew why, but after that flash I was somewhere dark and someone was there with me…They broke my wrist and it was so cold there, but then I heard something and there was someone else, but that's about it. I swallowed the lump in my throat before leveling my gaze with Matthew's and demanded to know what happened.

"Ms. Vilamaris, from what I heard, had just finished bandaging your head when you blacked out without warning. She hadn't thought much of it since you've fainted one other time, but then you started yelling. She got Dr. Amra, but by then you started thrashing around, screaming and clawing at yourself. They had to call Mr. Hammon and Mr. Alucio in to hold you down, b-but then," he paused, hugging Kumajirou tighter to him. "You started having trouble breathing. Nothing they were doing was having much effect, and then…you just r-r-recovered…."

He was leaving a few things out that were, most likely, important. I wanted to inquire, but he looked so worn out…and it was all because of me. I haven't even known him that long!

"Lovino, I just want you to know that, even though we umm haven't known each other long, I consider you my friend; we all do. We're here because we want to be, nothing more, nothing less." This wouldn't be the first time that he's done something like this. Hell, it's almost like he can read my mind! Crazy, right? Well, then again…

I looked down at the Spanish teen and then glanced at Matthew. I pointed disdainfully at him and said, "Does this mean I have to be nice to him?" The blonde chuckled, but I had a feeling he could see through me. Maybe Matthew could see something that I didn't even know myself…Nah, but I guess I should thank the bastard when he wakes up.

It's not like I want to or anything! But, he was here with me, and I just know that he's going to pester me. I'm not ungrateful, I was taught fucking manners! Actually, there was one family I lived with that despised anything but proper etiquette, manners, speech, and I even had to take additional lessons on the correct way to turn a page of a book, a fucking book! If I ever did anything not to their liking-which was often-I would be paddled or given some other punishment. For instance, I once had to balance ten plates. One was placed on both elbows, three on the back of my leg that had to be straight out, three on my head, and two on my hands. Within two hours I broke all ten plates, was beaten and made to pick up all the ceramic shards, and then was sent to bed. It was ridiculous! Needless to say, I was sent back within a few months, which felt like for fucking ever!

Anyway, I would say something to this bastard some other time. As of right now…I looked over at Matthew and the others, watching them carefully. I would never ever admit it to anyone, but I cried that night. Silently, but I'm sure Matthew probably heard my sniffles.

I didn't cry for some stupid reason, but it was just the first time in a long time that I was surrounded by people who may just actually care about me. I don't know the art of friendship all that well, but here in this place, I think I've made a few friends. Not bad for a supposed psychopath, huh?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI you guys probably have no idea about the amount of research I do for these chapters, such as the name of the baselines, clothes when mentioned, and the names I use. I really looked up names for all the minor OCs, such as Amra, Carthage, and Iberia. I made one up for Atlantis, seeing as she no longer exists and hasn't a single name record…Anyway, researching usually leads to something funny.
> 
> For example, I was looking up common things in high school gyms, seeing how the setting is an institute that probably wouldn't be like a normal gym, and I came across this question on yahoo answers that asked for what people liked the most about their gym class. The top answer was absolutely hilarious! The boy made it seem like his gym teacher was a pedophile, but that it was alright and the extra attention was loved. I couldn't tell if they were being serious or not, but I couldn't help but stare at the screen and burst out laughing at the audacity of it! Ah, researching for stories is way better than doing a research anything for school.
> 
> New Characters:  
> Luccius Baal Hammon-Carthage
> 
> Lili Zwingili- Liechtenstein
> 
> (Mentioned) Lagunas Alucio-Iberia
> 
> It-Wait and see~ it's a surprise!


	6. HIM

I was awoken this fine morning to none other than a woman. Many men would kill to be in the same place as me but, I assure you, it is no fucking walk in the park. First of all, she's clinging to you, crying and squeezing you to her bosom like a mother to an infant. Secondly, she thinks it's partly her fault that you're in the hospital, and thirdly, she's a very strong Belgian girl who's nearly choking you to death. What a  _perfect_  way to wake up on such a  _perfect_  morning full of sunshine and fucking rainbows.

Seriously, anyone want to trade?

"Umm, should we do something?" I heard Matthew ask over Bella's prattling. Yes, please save me! I can't fucking breathe here!

"Let's wait until his face turns purple!" Don't listen to the Danish bastard! I heard him start to choke, meaning that Lukas had either hit him or was in the process of choking him. I can always count on Lukas to deal with idiots. Now, make yourselves useful and  _save me!_

"Bella, you're hurting him." That sounded like that Lili girl from yesterday.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry, Lovino!" Finally, I could breathe! I turned to the other male occupants and scowled, "Thanks for nothing you bastards."

Gilbert only cackled, Matthew stared at the floor, Lukas and Matthias were arguing about something I couldn't catch, Im Yong Soo was listening to his Ipod, and that Antonio bastard was humming to himself. What a mountain of use they are.

"Are you feeling any better? I heard about what happened late last night, but I wasn't allowed to see you until now." I raised an eyebrow at Bella. Matthew had said that she had informed the rest of them, excluding Antonio. I looked back over at Matthew but he was staring nervously out the window. Well, if this doesn't stick out then I should be shot in the face and chopped into meat for some cannibal's pasta sauce.

"Yeah, a bit," oh, lying. You're something I've become fairly good at, but I don't think even Bella believed that one.

"I hope you feel better," I looked at Lili and couldn't help but give her a half smile. There's just something about her that makes me want to smile at her. Maybe it's because I once had a sister *****. I never told anyone else, not even Feliciano when we were younger; it's too painful to talk about.

"Thank you," I wasn't sure what else to say to Lili, but my attention was called into another conversation as that stupid Spanish bastard got too close. I hadn't yet thanked him for being here, but I would get around to it. Eventually. Shut up, I'm working on it you assholes! Sheesh, give an injured Italian a break here.

"Well, no offense Lovino, as I do love your company, but I'm starving." Yong Soo stated, rubbing his stomach bashfully as it grumbled. I didn't really want them to leave, having a feeling that something would go wrong when they left, but it would be selfish of me to keep them for longer than needed.

"Feel free anytime you bastards." I sat back on the lumpy bed with my arms crossed. Thankfully, only one of my wrists was still broken. I guess  _it_ was just fucking with me, no surprise there.

"See ya later, Lovi~" That Spanish asshole! I'm not a lovi!

"Lovi?" Gilbert repeated questioningly before snickering. He came towards me and ruffled my hair on the side with the least amount of bandages, "The awesome me declares your official nickname Lovi! Kesesesese!"

"Hell no, bastard!" I screamed back, but it was too late. The others all called me that as they left, leaving me to wonder if I could bash my brains out using the plastic cup by my side. I decided that no, I probably couldn't and settled on sulking about it.

I would like to get out of this bed and walk around but Dr. Amra told me not too. I was to stay in this stupid infirmary bed and rest due to my "episode" last night. However, I sympathize with the poor man. I just got here a few days ago and already I fainted how many times? Apparently I nearly stopped breathing last night too, so I guess his concern wasn't misplaced.

I refused to let myself remember all the time I had once spent in the hospital, opting to stare outside instead, desperately searching for a distraction. I didn't need to have another "episode" anytime soon. However, the scenery was tinted monochrome due to the gathering ominous clouds. I shivered, not liking the way I felt as if something were going to happen soon. I mean, I was already sentenced to a day in bed; do I really need whatever will be coming my way? Probably not, but life is a bitch.

It wasn't long before Ms. Vilamaris brought me something to eat, explaining that Dr. Amra had another patient. "His name is Alfred Jones, a very head-strong, but kind young man. He, however, was fighting with Milos again. It escalated to the point that the other workers had to step in and tranquilize them. I don't like to take sides, but I'm awfully sure that Milos patronized Alfred, he often does that, but this time Alfred had gotten rather serious." I only continued eating as she gossiped, but I wonder if she was venting more than anything. Obviously, she was upset by the two being tranquilized, but it seems she was leaning more towards this Alfred guy.

She seemed to be waiting for my say, and as I had nothing better to do I decided to at least milk this conversation for a few minutes, "What do you mean by serious?" I'm not a fan of gossip, I swear! Who the hell said I'm gossiping anyway?

"Alfred is normally very," she struggled to find the appropriate word for a moment, "loose, you could say, in the way he deals with things. You can insult him and he'll take it with a grain of salt most of the time, but he doesn't take kindly to those he cares about being foulmouthed."

I had a feeling that she had a personal experience with this, but I didn't want to directly ask her just in case it was too personal. You never really know with girls, Bella taught me that quite well. I still have the small scar on my ankle to prove it too.

"He's protective then, of his friends."

"Yes, sometimes to complete strangers, too. He has a bit of a hero complex."

"Has he helped any of the staff out before?" I try, being careful to watch the way I phrase my question. She doesn't seem to expect anything and if she does than she's masked it.

"Well, I don't normally like to bring it up, but I guess you'll hear it from someone else eventually. Nearly a year before you came, a younger worker was assaulted by their senior. It was truly horrible and apparently had gone on for some time. Alfred had happened to hear and tried to save the poor worker, but in the end he was punished for it." She stopped their, seeing to reminisce about the tragic events.

"Whatever happened to the workers?"

"Oh, well I believe that they were let go." She stated, coming out of her daydream. "Anyway, you'll be sharing this room with Alfred for the rest of the day. If he wakes, please try to get along with him. He's a very dependable young man."

She left a moment later with my half eaten plates. She had been hesitant at first, wanting me to eat more but I couldn't. There are things I don't like to talk about, just like everyone else, and the leftover food on that plate is one of those things. To be realistic, I was far too nervous to eat much. I'm not too sure as to why, but I just have this feeling that something's wrong.

It was fifteen minutes later when Alfred was rolled in on a gurney and deposited into the empty cot next to mine. I ended up observing him while he slept. His hair is blonde, wheat colored, and there's this random strand sticking straight out, but I guess my curl would be considered weird too. I couldn't help but notice that he looked almost like a cute child when sleeping, even though it was highly obvious that he's no child. He's got a body, not overly muscular, but it's comparable to a high-school or college quarterback; athletic, but subtle.

I closed my eyes, not wanting to think about anything again. However, there was no way I was falling asleep anytime soon. I was too wired and fidgety, my ominous feelings from before have yet to disappear. I really hate that feeling. It makes my back itch, my hands start to fidget, and I can't concentrate for long periods of time on one thing. I don't like it, whatever this is.

I opened my eyes again, only to be met with the brightest blue eyes I've ever seen, ocean blue, like the Mediterranean sea…I really miss that view. Anyway, I just continued to scowl at the other teen, displeased with being caught off guard, "What the hell are you looking at?"

The other just stared back at me for a long moment, making me feel uncomfortable under his glance, "Well you, duh. There's no one else here, dude."

I stopped my eye from twitching, but had to clench my teeth. This was the same Alfred that Ms. Vilamaris was talking about, right? This guy didn't seem like much, but then again I've only just met him and I've been called pessimistic, so it might be just me, "Why the hell are you staring at me, bastard?"

He shrugged, a smile gracing his features, "Well, I can't really see you too well. I'm missing Texas."

I blinked a few times, trying to process all that, but I don't own an idiot-to-Italian-and-or-English-dictionary, though I think he might be telling me that he wears glasses, but I could be wrong.

He began to pat the areas next to him until he finally found what he was looking for. Texas, as he called it, was actually his glasses. Well, what do you know? I was right. He put them on after cleaning the lenses with the hem of his shirt. He blinked a few times before finally turning back to me, "Hey, you look really familiar!"

Holy shit, his voice is so loud! His voice took up the room and bounced back.

"Yeah, you look like Feliciano!" I stared at him wide-eyed before quickly shifting my gaze back to my lap. I stared intently at the white sheet, my fists crumpling the scratchy fabric.

"Hey, dude, are you guys siblings or like twins or some shit?" He asked curiously, his attitude meaning no harm, but the words cut into me.

"It's none of your goddamn business, asshole!" I snapped, not feeling in the mood for talking. Just who does he think he is? Asking me such personal goddamn question, che!

He studied me for a moment, a weird look crossing over his eyes briefly. I'm not exactly sure but it seemed to be something like knowing.

"I have a brother, too. He's older than me but everyone thinks I'm the oldest. He doesn't stand out much and is really quiet most of the time. Apparently we look alike and he's always getting mistaken for me. I worry about him, he's my brother, but sometimes even I don't notice him." He babbled on from a few more moments before laughing nervously.

I'm not too sure as to why I decided to talk. Maybe it's because he was just talking or maybe it's because I just wanted to get this off my chest, "Don't tell anyone, but Feliciano is my little brother. We've been separated ever since I was ten. For six years I've been wondering and worrying over him, and I've finally found him… but he hates me."

I felt weight suddenly land on my shoulders. I tensed and stared over at Alfred, taken aback at his sudden change in demeanor. He was smiley like a retard and holding a burger out to me. Where the hell did he even get it? No, never mind, I don't want to know!

"Get that shit out of my fucking face, burger bastard!"

"Awe, burgers are good for your soul!" He argued back in a playful way. I only glared, feeling my left eye start to twitch in annoyance. This guy was really just too much.

He leaned in, close to my face and began to whisper, "I heard about what happened. Did Dr. Amra inject you with anything after the bastard Rickerson gave you pills?"

I paused in shock, wondering just how he knew about all of that. "What does it mean to you?"

Alfred's eyes narrowed, "No one's explained things to you yet, huh? Well, I guess the hero will have to fill you in! Those pills aren't ordinary; they're for penetrating the body from the inside and messing with the consumer's mind. The shot that you were given wasn't some flu shot or anything like that. It acts as a catalyst to further enhance the pills effects while rendering the consumer oblivious to what's going on. Ever since you've arrived those doses of what the patients call  _X_  has slowly been building up inside of your body. Last night was only a minor side affect."

I gaped at him like a fish out of water. God damn it! What the hell is this guy spouting out? Is he on drugs? There's no way that Dr. Amra would do that, right? I paused, remembering all that happened last night and the times before. Ever since I've arrived here I have been frequently getting more headaches and  _it_ ended up awakening for awhile, which should have been avoided!

"Say you're right, and I have been getting these  _X_ doses. What will they do to me? What's their purpose?" I'm not frightened! Not in the goddamn least!

Alfred stood up and looked at me seriously, "It'll be better if I showed you before explaining," he moved over to the sink and grabbed the drain clog. He held it in his hand and presented it to me before closing his fist around it. After mere seconds he reopened his fist and the clog was reduced to a tiny ball of warped metal.

"Everyone here has at least one ability like this. A friend of mine can disintegrate and my own brother can turn invisible and hear thoughts."

Matthew? Well, it's a no fucking wonder people tend to forget he's there… wait, mind reading? Fuck, he's been reading my mind? Well, that explains why he laughs sometimes for no reason, but seriously? "What the hell is this?"

"Dude, I already explained it's a power! Every patient here has one or more! What's yours anyway? You ended up blocking Francis' advances but then you were taken to the infirmary for fainting, and then there was last night!"

I rubbed my temples as that idiot went about talking about this and that. A part o myself just wanted to kick him out of the room while another part of myself remembered that he was like me, different. Apparently, so are all the other patients. It sorta felt nice to know I wasn't the only one here like that, and it was only this delusional feeling that made me spill! God, stop looking at me like that!

"I have precognition."

"Preco-wah?"

I groaned, "It means I can see parts of the future dumb ass!" I rolled my eyes as he tried to process what I said.

"Really? That's lame!" I want to choke this dumb ass. I really,  _really_ do. He's starting to piss me off! "Shut the fuck up, bastard!"

He laughed at my words, seemingly not put off by my attitude. Surprise, surprise, but I sorta like this guy but only a little! No one better get any ideas! He's annoying and troublesome and a burger bastard, but that seriousness that I saw…and he's the only one who's explained anything to me… that's all!

"Hmm, I wonder if you have a minor ability, like my brother and myself." I looked back at him and expertly raise a brow in question. "Yeah, there are minor abilities! Ya see, it's not all that powerful like a dominant ability, but they're mainly useful! Watch!" He stood at the sink and in the blink of an eye he was on the other side of the room.

"Mine is super speed! Cool, right?" I only stared in awe, but quickly covered it up with some grumbling.

"Hey, don't be like that! Minor abilities are common, but there are others who have two or three dominant abilities!"

"Whatever. So, I just don't take these pills, right?" I knew deep down that it was going to be easier said than done. That Rickerson bastard and thoroughly made sure that I had swallowed those damn pills.

"Yeah, but you've got Rickerson so you'll have to learn how to do it properly in order to fool him! You'll probably have to swallow them and then make yourself throw up, dude." Great, I fucking hate gagging! This is highly stupid and really annoying! Wasn't this place supposed to help me?

Alfred settled back against the mattress and stared out the window, "I don't know what you did to get in here, but any other option would have been better."

I couldn't help but laugh at him. I hadn't meant to at all, but it just bubbled up and exploded. Fuck my stupid body for going against me! "Really? What other option did you have?"

His eyes hardened, "Twenty years in prison. I was framed by someone for helping a terrorist. It's a lie, but somehow there was evidence even though I'd never met any terrorist before."

"Someone pleaded insanity for you then. Probably saying something about being delusional or having a split personality, huh?" I'd heard of those before, but I never expected for them to really be used. My own lawyer had pleaded my insanity by using several eye-witnesses and the fact that I was still unstable and injured myself.

"Yeah, that's exactly what happened. The strangest part what that it was a doctor from this very institute who'd never once met me before that second the claim."

"Un-fucking-believable," I scoffed. The whole thing sounded pretty fishy to me. I'm no genius, but something wasn't right about this.

"Mattie, he was sent here soon after me. He didn't tell me about what happened, but he was really banged up. It only grew worse while he was here. The first three days here are the toughest because the big wigs know we have these abilities and the drugs are for enhancing them to the point that they get out of control and manifest. After that, the drugs are changed so that they can keep us under us under control. Most don't last the first two days, the longest record is three. So far you seem to be beating the record, but today is your third day here. You better keep your guard up; they'll try to pull out all the stops, but don't worry, a true hero always protects those in need!"

My momentary respect slowly started to diminish as he laughed obnoxiously while doing poses and proceeded to eat a few hamburgers. God, there are some extremely strange people here! What is Alfred, bipolar or did he purposely stop reading the atmosphere? An idiota man of mystery…

After a few minutes, Alfred left stating that a hero doesn't just lie down all day or something like that, but I appreciated the silence for the moment. That stupid burger bastard was really loud and annoying, plus his sudden mood changes were starting to bother my head! God, why can't he just pick a side? Stupid or perceptive. However, I'm not one to talk. I think some girls once called me a tsundere… whatever the hell that means.

While sorting through my own thoughts I started to feel aggravated at all this shit that was happening. This  _X_  stuff, powers, Alfred's story, and this place in general. I had never wanted to be here in the first place, but I didn't want to die. The pros and cons were still iffy and I can't make up my fucking mind as to which would be worse; dead or alive?

"Well,  _honey_ this is where you've been hiding. I've been looking for you." I frantically looked up as Mr. Rickerson came in through the door, smirking at me like the sorry ass bastard he is. What the fuck does this guy want anyway?

He sauntered over and grabbed my arm, taking out a syringe with the other. Well, it was flight or fight and only the latter was an option at this point. I clawed at his hand, attempting to get him off of me, but it was futile. The familiar and sickening feeling of a needle stabbing through my arm made me want to throw up. The contents of the syringe sluggishly began to flow into my bloodstream and my grip weakened. My eyes felt heavy and the last thing I saw before my eyes closed was that bastard's smirking face as Alfred's words resounded in my head:

No one has ever made it past the third day.

* * *

"Come on, Lovi! It's time to eat!" Loud, they talked loudly. Funny, they all were strange.

I flexed my fingers, not liking the slight resistance, but that would soon fade. Things were alright, they're great! I'm in control. Good. Lovely! Now, what were they talking about again? My mind seems to be fuzzy and that guy's name isn't popping up, but he looks funny, what with that accent.

I slowly sit up, still trying to get used to this sluggish feeling. Would it go away after a few minutes? Hmmm, maybe eating would help. What time is it anyway? By that I mean in numbers, not this "time to eat" mess. My, I think something's wrong with my vocabulary, shouldn't I be in character more?

Whatever, let's get this over with. I stood up from the bed and move to change my clothes. It seems someone brought me a clean pair to change into. How  _nice_  of a gesture that is. I clumsily put on the new clothes, having a little trouble putting on the shirt since this stupid cast is in my way! The pants were slightly easier, only pulling up the one side where the cast is was the hardest.

I walked into the hallway, letting my mind come back to itself. Once the haze was lifted I was able to make my way to the cafeteria. Feeling rejuvenated I stepped into the lunch line and pointed out what I wanted to eat when the ladies asked. After balancing the full, over-stuffed tray in my arms I looked around for a place to sit.

"Lovi, over here!" I looked over at the voice, surprised to see that person waving me over. Was that an invitation? I slowly walked over, realization dawning as their faces grew recognizable. I think something's wrong with me, I feel slower than usual.

I sat down at the table and started eating the mountain of food without hesitation. This shit is delicious! A feeling crossed over me and I had a sudden want to stop shoveling in food, but I couldn't stop. This isn't normal… am I really that hungry? This isn't autopilot anymore. Why am I eating this much?

"Hey, did you hear me?" I looked up at the one who spoke, some blonde with a cross clip. I was still paused, half slurping up my pasta noodles, "What?" I asked, but my voice came out more like waht, but I didn't stop eating.

"He's acting like Alfred," some albino whispered in near disgust. I wiped my mouth with my hand, ignoring them. Whatever, I don't care about what they think. I paused, sitting back in my chair and holding my head. What the hell am I doing? What the fuck am I  _doing_?

I felt sick, all the food I ate churning uneasily in my stomach. My throat burned, wanting to get this out of my stomach. I never ate that much before in such little time. I could already tell that I would be suffering from this for awhile. I groaned and put my head in my hands and unconsciously started to rock.

"Lovino, are you alright?" Matthew asked worriedly. I just continued to rock, feeling sick to my stomach. "Yeah Mattie, just give me a moment," it came out in a shaky whisper. I didn't even realize that I just called Matthew by his nickname, the one few people used.

"Well, well if it isn't little Lovino," I didn't look up as Mr. Rickerson approached as I was still nursing my head while resisting the urge to throw up. However, I forced myself to as he arrived at the table and seemed to be after something. Dread filled me and the only reason I could understand this was because I just remembered that the bastard had injected me with something earlier.

"What the fuck did you do to me?"

The stupid man ignored me and instead stared at my unfinished food, "Seems like you'll be set back for awhile, huh?" I froze, tensing at his words. How the fuck does he know? Well, obviously he has my medical records but then does that mean he knows about everything else? Would he use it? Alfred did say that no one survived the third day… does that mean he was going to pull out all the stops until I cracked?

"What the hell did you do to him?" I could hear Gilbert stand up by the screeching of his chair. That bastard didn't even spare him a look, his eyes locked with my own. The blonde man reached into his pocket and pulled out a lighter and cigar. He placed the cigar in his mouth before lighting it up, ignoring the protests about smoking. He grinned as I began to shake.

"I read something  _very_  interesting about you in your file,  _hun_ ," he drawled after blowing smoke into my face.

"Cut it out, Rickerson." Gilbert warned threateningly and I saw Matthias and Lukas also start to slowly stand up.

The man ignored them and blew another smoke ring into my face, "So, your sad wittle family was involved too deep in the mafia, huh? A real sob story, especially with what happened to you. I almost feel bad for you. I mean, your sister would have been fuckable… if she were still alive."

"Shut up!" I screamed, not wanting to remember, but the smoke seemed to create the illusion for me. As the smoke wavered I could see  _that_  man.

Don't say her name.

"Mi amigos," Antonio ran up to us. He took one look at me and his eyes hardened just a bit, "That's not Lovi."

I didn't look at him, not even as that despicable man said my sister's name. I sighed to myself and with a snap of my head, turned to that Spanish bastard.

" **Why can't you keep your dirty mouth shut?"**  Everyone seemed to pause at my words and I couldn't help but to laugh at them. " **This is more taxing to play the part then I thought it would be. My mistake, but at least now I can have some fun."**

I stood up and moved closer to that bastard, Rickerson. Within the blink of the eye his arm snapped in several places.

" **News flash, it's going to rain tonight!"** I sniggered to myself again and spread out my arms. I kicked the man in the stomach and laughed as he fell to his knees before squatting down in front of him, chuckling darkly,  **"Think of that as my thanks for letting me come out to play as I** _ **only**_ **broken an arm, but Lovino doesn't like you."**

The man went soaring across the room and into a pillar. I stood up and laughed as workers started to rush towards me,  **"Oh, please, like they can touch me!"**

Within seconds they all lay on the ground. I smiled big as one was lifted up,  **"Maybe I should leave a note… what should I destroy first, your arms or legs? Maybe I should rip off your head and be done with it!"**

I was just about to rip off his arm when something rather large tried to hit me from the left side. I looked over with a deathly glare to see some massive green troll. Tch, stupid creature, " **That wasn't very nice."**

"Lovi, dude, snap out of it!" Who was that boy again, Alfie? Well, it doesn't matter. I should just rid myself of him anyway.

"Alfred, get back!" Really, these people are being such a bother. Why won't they just sit down and let me kill them? It would be so much easier that way.

All of a sudden I was suspended in the air. I glared over at the albino, but pouted as he was out of my range. However, that Spanish bastard seemed to be the perfect victim. I smiled smugly just before he was lifted off the ground.

"Antonio!" they yelled from below. Well, this bastard was the one from last time! Getting rid of him should give me less headaches. I was suddenly let go, but I remained propped in the air by my own rights. I wasn't necessarily expecting it, but that albino suddenly jumped on top of me. I hit the floor with an audible yelp, not enjoying this sensation.

"Lovi, I know you're in there somewhere! Hurry up and get the fuck out here! We're your friends and we want to help you, but if this continues we'll have to hurt you!"

" **Shut up! I'm Lovino, I'm Lovino, I'm Lovino!"** I screamed, readying to tear this mother fucker limb from goddamn limb! I hate him! I hate him so much that my eyes burned just looking at him. My hand came up, ready to finish him when I could feel my other arm grab it, stopping me.

" **What the-why are you awake?"**

"Get the fuck away from them!" Lovino yelled at me, but I didn't want to! I wanted to destroy them!

" **Go back to sleep. It's my turn to play!"** The albino was staring at me weirdly, but whenever I tried to kill him it didn't work.  **"Stop fucking around! Just let me kill him off!"**

"No! Move the fuck over and disappear! Leave me alone!"

" **No, no, no, no, no, no, no!"** I screamed, beginning to claw at my face in an attempt to beat him. That stupid albino grabbed my hands to keep me from further harming myself, the stupid prick! He was asking to die! They all were!

"I said, get out!" The words resounded through my head and I could feel the binds wrapping around me, dragging me further and further away from him.  **"No! Don't leave me, love!"** I reached out for him, but he turned his back on me. Tears welled in my eyes as my consciousness started to disintegrate.

* * *

I opened my eyes and groaned, feeling weight on my chest. "Albino bastard, you're fucking heavy," I rasped out.

The bastard laughed shakily but also in relief, "Thank god you're back… what the hell  _was_ that?"

I groaned, "I wish I fucking knew now could you do me the favor of getting the fuck off of me!"

I glared up at him before starting to blush at our position. It's not fucking funny you assholes! How would you feel to have a stupid albino named Gilbert right on top of you? Don't bother answering that, I know you all non-existent people are perverts.

He lended me a hand to sit up, but when I did I wished I hadn't. I turned to the side and proceeded to throw up. Disgusting! However, I felt more relieved right after everything had been emptied out.

"I am so not cleaning that up." Gilbert stated in near disgust, "That's really unawesome."

"Shut up," I muttered, whipping away the dribble on my chin. My mouth tasted fucking horrible right now! Then I looked over at everyone, "Is everyone alright?"

Gilbert smiled just as Matthias bounded over and locked me in a headlock, giving me a noogie, the stupid Danish bastard! "All limbs accounted for and no casualties! Congratulations, I don't know what the fuck that was, but it's a new record!"

"Wait a moment; I thought you said your power was precognition!" Alfred yelled in confusion. The others turned to Lovino with raised brows.

"What the fuck you all staring at me for? I didn't lie!" I yelled, avoiding their gaze. I stared down at my hands in pain, afraid of what just could have happened. I could have killed them! My god, I could have murdered these people who say that they're my friends!

"Lovi, does this have something to do with why you're here?" Bella asked as she approached them, a sadness in her eye.

I just stared at the floor before sighing. Bella would be the one to take notice of that, wouldn't she?

"You should have just taken the death penalty, you little fucker! You're nothing but a monster!" the words hit hard as the others whipped their heads to stare at Mr. Rickerson. The man was just now getting to his feet and was glaring heatedly at them, "Fuck, you really killed them didn't you?"

"That's enough! Leave him alone, you lost, stay down." Alfred stated dangerously and it seemed that the others were equally surprised by his hostility towards the man. No one liked Mr. Rickerson, but everyone knew that it was a silent hate.

"Still playing the hero, Alfred?"

"Yeah, at least I'm not the one nearly pissing himself in fear." Alfred challenged before turning his back on the man just as Dr. Amra, Miss Vilamaris, Mr. Hammon, and Mr. Alucio arrived on the scene. They took in the scene and went about fixing everything. Dr. Amra took Mr. Rickerson to the infirmary for treatment while Miss Vilamaris stayed to check on everyone else.

Mr. Hammon and Mr. Alucio went about crowd control. Miss Vilamaris, after checking the other workers and deeming them in top shape, approached the group of teens and ushered them also to the infirmary to check each and every single one of them. However, it was mainly to hold a small audience with them.

"What happened back there guys?" She asked, but already knew the answer to her question. I listened as they each presented their point of view, gauging their reactions. Half the time I just kept my head down, feeling this immense guilt.

I could have murdered them! They all were hurt because of me, because I couldn't keep myself in control of  _it._  That's why I tried to separate myself from them… to protect them, but now… they must hate me. They should be terrified of me!

"Lovino, I'm not scared of you," Matthew's words, no matter how soft they came out, made everyone pause and listen. "I will admit that the  _thing_ in control of you scared me, but I don't blame you."

"You're being unawesome! I don't blame you in the slightest!" Gilbert added, smiling at me, "That bastard had it coming!"

Lukas whacked him on the head for that last comment, "It's no one's fault."

Matthias smiled and wrapped an arm across Lovino's shoulders, "If it hadn't been someone out for blood doing weird shit with your body, I think you would've been pretty cool!"

"Coolness originated in me, daze!" The others laughed at the Korean male while Bella held onto Lovino's hand, "I'm not afraid of you. Lovi, you're too nice of a person to have meant us any harm and you managed to stop yourself."

"Si, si, that was impressive, mi amigo!" Antonio chimed in.

I stared at all of them and I hide my face as tears started to fall. Those stupid bastards and their fucking girly words! What type of cliché moment is this, really? God, these idiotas are really something.

"Antonio, you made him cry! So unawesome!" Gilbert yelled before cackling. Antonio began to apologize profusely as Matthias started to annoy Lukas again. Matthew only watched them all, bemused by their antics as Alfred and Miss Vilamaris began to chat. And, for some reason, Yong Soo was just dancing off to the side.

I wiped away my tears as they all surrounded me. I felt something funny in my chest, like this burning, but it felt nice. Maybe, this is what true happiness really feels like.

However, it seems that someone up there really hates me for that small moment was shattered by the burning and scratching in my eyes. I groaned, stupid fucking precognition! I closed my eyes, hoping to make it easier.

The flashes behind my eyelids showed a grainy picture of what looks to be three numbers: 2, 5, and 777. There was suddenly a staircase that blew past, opening up to a long hallway filled with doors. Another flash depicted the dead end to a hallway.

I opened my eyes, first noting the silence that had encased the room. However, all the occupants were quiet as they watched me. "The fuck you guys staring at?"

"You see, he wasn't lying!" Matthias belted out, turning to Alfred. The others rolled their eyes as Gilbert clapped Lovino on the back, "Congratulations for not fainting!"

I let a small smile out and clapped him on the back hard in response, "Thanks for the  _awesome_ support."

The albino merely laughed in response.

I didn't move from my position as I still was watching them. I had half expected them to be nervous to be in the same room as me, but they weren't. My mind wandered back to the sudden appearance of that troll and Gilbert levitating me in the air. Well, they aren't exactly normal themselves. However, I still felt uneasy about everything, especially about just why we are all here in this place.

Still, I keep my questions to myself for the moment. I'm not such a bastard that I would ruin the-surprisingly-good mood we're all in. God, they really are a bunch of fucking weirdoes!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I mention sister as she plays a vital role in what's going on with Lovno. She's sort of an OC, but she's dead if you all didn't get that.
> 
> New Characters:  
> Alfred F. Jones-America (Duh)
> 
> Milos Martinez-Cuba (Mentioned)


	7. Wait

Surprisingly, a whole fucking week had passed since  _it_ appeared. Quite a few things had happened in that time, such as the meeting of Lili's overprotective big brother, Vash, the asshole Sadiq whose room was on the same stretch as mine, Emil (Lukas' little brother) and his friend Kaoru, and then that British-tea-sucking-bastardo, Arthur.

Lukas and the tea-sucker seemed to get along relatively well, until one of them started talking about the proper aspects or some shit of magick or however they lectured me to spell it. The blond Brit also got along with Alfred, like oil to water, but somehow they seemed close regardless of the constant bickering that we all were subjugated to hear multiple times a day.

Fuck, meeting Vash had been easier than listening to them fight, and Vash threatened to shoot my fucking balls off! To put it simply, Vash and I had a mutual "don't-bother-me-and-I-won't-bother-you" relationship.

In other news, that bastard Rickerson is no longer supplying me medication and prefers to glare at me from a safe distance, the cast on his arm prominent against his tanned skin.

A part of me actually feels sorry for the bastard, the other half smug satisfaction. My guilt seems more weighted by the fact that I hadn't been in control. My lapse in control, no matter if stimulated by  _X_ , and his broken arm were my own personal symbol. If someone else had pissed me off, even for a moment, it could have been them.

My heinous display that night, I was sure, should have landed me a one-way ticket to death row, but nothing was ever done about it. I was never called to speak with the director, or even made to apologize or some shit! It's like these fuckers don't care that Rickerson nearly got his arm torn off by some strange power they couldn't see! I'm still not too sure what this means as a whole, but they had tried to bring about the full brunt of my abilities, so maybe Rickerson getting hurt was a likely factor. Poor bastardo, I wonder if they even bothered to warn him.

The only truly distressing thing that had happened in the last week was that Feliciano seemed to be avoiding me more and more; he wouldn't even stay in the same room as me for more than ten damn minutes! There were also quite a few patients who looked at me with dread and fright, like Mr. Rickerson was right and I really am a monster.

Well…fuck them! I didn't ask for  _it_ to awaken and break shit and I'm pretty sure that we've all been drugged on this mysterious  _X_  and those stupid pills! I was happy with just having my precognition being noticed, but  _no_  these assholes go to the fucking extreme to figure out what we're really capable of. Fucking bullshit!

I no longer take those fucking excuses for pills, and take different ones now that (as Alfred told me a week ago) are supposed to suppress my abilities to a "manageable level." Fuck that shit, but I've had less problems keeping  _it_ contained, so at least  _that's_  a plus.

I walked into Ms. Vilamaris' office, relieved that she was now my psychologist and therapist instead of _that_  bastard. However, I still don't like the fucking idea of participating in what the orderlies call "Group Discussion." Once a fucking week, the patients are divided into small groups of around six or five and assigned to Ms. Vilamaris, Dr. Amra, or another psychologist-therapist person for some stupid group session where we talk about a topic or some stupid shit.

Today was actually my first day in group, but I knew it was going to spend it trying to become like Matthew, invisible. Damn, I fucking wish I could have borrowed his ability for the next hour and ten minutes!

I sat down in one of the plastic chairs that were arranged in a circular fashion at the center of the room. I crossed my arms, fidgeting a bit with my cast, and waiting for the other stragglers to hurry their fucking asses up so that this shit could be over with faster.

My eyes swiftly glanced through the five other faces, noting that French-bastard Francis, Gilbert, and that potato-bastard who dumped his food on me a week ago (Ludwig I believe Gilbert called him), were the only faces that I knew. The other two were ones that I had seen, but only from a distance. One of them was blond (a seemingly common fucking trend) and short, and I realized that Lukas and Matthias often went off to converse with him.

The other one was snoozing away with a cute tabby cat lying on his stomach. A few more gathered at his chair, attempting follow the tabby's example and take a nice long nap on that log of a person. I turned my gaze back to Mr. Vilamaris, but those fucking kittens remained distracting!

God damn it, they were too fucking cute to resist!

One orange kitten trotted close to my loose hand, giving me the perfect chance to pet the feline discreetly. Hey, cats are fucking soft and adorable!

I ended up picking the small animal up and placing her (yes, definitely a she) into my lap where I proceeded to pet her soothingly as Ms. Vilamaris started talking about what we would be discussing.

"Today, I want to start off by having you all talk about an object that means something to you," she gave a slight pause before further elaborating, "For example, I have a necklace that was given to me by my mother. It represents the home we were driven from, the culture that will continue on through us, and where I originated from."

She paused to let us maul it over.

I didn't need to think of an object as the lacquer of high-quality wood, the smell of the polish, the familiar weight resting between my legs, the feel of the wooden bow with strings made of quality horse hair, and the memory of the ink on the sheet music swarmed back to me. For hours and hours I would practice, Nonno even helped me to finish a composition piece that I had started, and then there was  _her_  and Feliciano.

My heart tightened painfully as I pushed the thought of  _her_ from my head, but the heavy feeling lingered. I no longer even had the item. It had burned to ash about six years ago.

"Is there anyone who would like to go first?" When no one raised their hands, she looked around the room until locking eyes with me.

I cursed internally. This is what I fucking get for zoning out and petting cats! Damn it, damn it! This sucked!

"Lovino, do you have anything to contribute?"

God damn it all, I could  _hear_  the slight beg to her question. No one really wanted to be the one to go first for shit like this. However, I couldn't just fucking let her down! She has helped me on multiple occasions and the thought of letting her down left an unpleasant feeling in my fucking stomach. Curse my brain for making me feel guilty and curse her for being hard to let down.

"I guess," I started, mainly locking eyes with Gilbert and Herakles as they were the easiest to look at, one being my friend and the other asleep with a bunch of cats nestled on his body. "When I was six I owned this cello, high quality and had been in my…family for generations. I used to practice and clean it every day, I even came up with my own compositions."

"I was really good at music, it was the only thing I am good at, my brother was the artist and my sister, she-" I adhered myself from continuing, the mere memory of her making my head throb with warning again.

"I have a really awesome object!" Gilbert butted in, and I sent him a miserably thankful look at taking the attention off me.

"See this cross? Well, Luddy here has one too, but mine was given to me by Old Fritz before he died. They've been in our family since-I think-the divide between East and West Berlin. Our ancestors were brothers, like us, but were sent to opposite sides of the Berlin wall. These crosses are supposed to represent the faith they had in meeting each other again, even if it meant after death."

In the week and handful of days that I've known Gilbert, I have never seen him so solemn. The look he gives that pendant, and from here I can tell that it is loved.

Ms. Vilamaris tries to get the other members to contribute at least something, but only Tino willingly talks about his dog, some fucking strange thing that sounds like hamburger, before she changes the topic of discussion.

"Many of you here may have something that you believe is beyond your control, an inner demon or fear that tries to take over and drag you down. Today, I want you all to humanize it by giving it a name, maybe it already has one, but you are unable to hear it. By humanizing the problem, you diminish it from some great unknown higher order to something familiar, something that can be dealt with in time."

Why the fucking hell does it feel like she's talking about me? You know what, fuck it! I'll try this shit and see if humanizing the thing that has killed multiple people helps. The only bad thing that can happen is that I fail…or piss  _it_ off too much and  _it_ takes control.

It shouldn't be something so ludicrous that it's funny. My problem is a very serious one and I need to take it seriously. I also need to make it personal, almost intimate. It's easier to deal with a friend having a bitch fit then a complete fucking stranger just going off about shit, even I know that. Though, it's hard to think of  _it_ as a friend or even remotely close.

The last time  _it_  took over,  _it_  had been adamant on trying to persuade the others that he was me. Che, can you fucking believe that shit!? I'm foul-tempered and generally disgruntled, but not a fucking maniac!

An idea hit me then, and I had to admit that it wasn't a bad one. My middle name, given to me by Nonno, is Romano. It actually has some negative associations with it, meaning  _I ruin._ It was perfect.

_It_ was now Romano, the being that was out to ruin me.

I almost felt a little better, like putting a name to that  _thing_  had lessened its hold on me, if only just a fraction. I have never been able to directly communicate with Romano, but I had a feeling that he detested being humanized as a separate entity. Come to think of it, that fucker always seemed to materialize randomly…normally when  _she_ was mentioned or when something huge was going on.

That's probably how Romano managed to get out  _that_ night. I had an internal melt down and wasn't able to deal with it. I wanted them to know that it hurt, that I wasn't someone you could just cast aside after tearing down my internal walls and making me feel loved and normal. I wasn't garbage to be tossed around until I turned eighteen. I was a person, a broken one sure with a large stag-heap of personal issues, but still a living breathing person.

"Lovi, hello~" An albino hand waved in front of my face a few times, only serving to pique my irritation.

I swatted at his stupid hand and glared at him, "What, damn it?"

A smirk slid onto his face, "It's time for gym, Lovi."

I pursed my lips, not excited by the fact that the stupid-fucking nickname had stuck. It was too fucking cute, damn it! I am a man, not some puppy to be given a pet name!

"I knew that," I moodily replied, getting up to follow him.

Gym class wasn't too bad anymore. Yes, dodge ball and the fuckers who beam the balls on purpose are assholes, but it helps when I get antsy from the humdrum schedule of the day. My wrist is also just a few days away of finally getting the fucking cast off! I'd have to go through physical therapy for it, but it would be worth it to finally have the freedom to scratch my fucking wrist when I damn well please! Seriously, it gets sweaty and itchy inside a cast and you can't do shit about it! It's also a real pain to shower with, but that speaks for itself.

I changed in the bathroom as it had a medical kit. I meet Gilbert, Bella, and Lili on the baseline while Mr. Hammon called attendance.

Once finished, Mr. Hammon sent me to the bleachers as half of the class was going to be spent playing dodge ball, and no one wanted me to have another head injury. I took a seat in the third row from the bottom, knowing that both people and stray balls are likely to crash into the lower levels. It's happened before, and will surely happen again. It isn't dodge ball until someone has a bloody nose, runs into the bleachers, or gets painfully nailed in the face.

I casually watched Mr. Hammon pick three captains, the selection of teams, the nervous face of the last kid picked, and then the coin toss to determine which two teams would duke it out first. I turned my glance to the ceiling, not particularly interested in the game going on below.

"I said no, Peter." I turned at Arthur's voice, which came from my right and down a row.

"You're not the boss of me!" Peter, a kid who's probably younger than Lili by a year or three and has eyebrows matching Arthur's, snapped back.

It's probably his brother because who on earth would naturally have fucking caterpillars growing on their face? Yeah, I didn't think so.

"Peter, it's too dangerous for you to play!" Arthur argued, his caterpillars narrowing in exasperation.

"You always say that! I'm not that small, you big stupid oaf! All because you're older than me doesn't give you the right to tell me what to do!" Peter exclaimed, exasperated with being told he was too small and young.

"That doesn't matter! You are not going back in." Arthur tried to finish, but Peter continued to pitch a fit.

I wanted to shove cotton in my ears, but I was reminded of my childhood. I used to argue with my parents all the time, especially the one time we went to the carnival. I had been terrified of all the large roller coasters and the Ferris wheel, but I had also wanted to ride all of them just because I was told that I couldn't. I also remember when Feliciano started wanting to do things outside his limits, and… _her_ , Chiara.

"Oi, Tea-bastard," I called out, not realizing until I was sitting on the other side of Arthur and Peter that I had even moved or talked. Well, fuck it…their arguing was getting annoying anyway and someone had to stop them!

"You're name's Peter, right?" I asked, looking at the kid. He nods, his eyes flickering from me to Arthur, unsure of why I was there.

"You want to play dodge ball, right?"

"Lovino-"I almost smiled when Peter cut Arthur off to nod.

"Go for it, but first you need to do something to prove that you can play. If you can do it, I'll make sure this tea-bastard doesn't get in your way, alright?"

I smiled when he readily agrees, just like my siblings used to do.

"Good, now what do you need to play dodge ball?"

Peter looked at me like I'd grown another head, "Well, you need to be strong and know how to throw."

"Yes, but you also need to dodge."

"But that's for sissies like him and girls," Peter argued, pointing at Arthur who indignantly huffs, much to my amusement, before settling down.

"It's called  _dodge_ ball for a reason. See those kids over there, sporting the bloody noses and bruises, they didn't dodge, whether they didn't notice or didn't make it in time, and got hurt. Arthur just wants to keep your nose blood-free, not because you're small or weak, but because your nose could end up like his if you take one too many hits to the face."

I nearly laughed when Peter looked scandalized and hesitantly touched his nose, while looking at Arthur's, and then nodding his understanding.

"Okay, I'll sit out this game, but I'm gonna play next time! Berwald and Tino have been teaching me so I want them to know I've put it to use."

It's almost strange that he's so sincere, like a little fucking kid that made his own cereal and wanted to show off to his parents. It was a simple gesture in his mind, something that I hadn't seen or experienced in a very long time.

"I-I didn't need your help, but…thank you." I looked back at Arthur, and rolled my eyes as he prodded at his nose.

"Oi, tea-bastard, I was just kidding about your nose," I glanced back over and shrugged at him.

"Where did you learn to do that?" Arthur asked after a few silent moments had passed.

"I had my own younger siblings to deal with."

I paused, lost in the past where Feliciano tried to use the oven, dropped a terra-cotta and broke it (I took the blame for it), tried to eat glue, and wandered outside, almost getting lost if I hadn't of found him and walked him through the backyard. There also were the memories of…Chiara, young and adventurous.

"You seem to be the opposite of your brother." I could tell he was being careful with his wording. I just nodded, "That happens when you're fucking separated from your family for six years or so."

The words came out harsher than I had meant them, but Arthur hadn't looked to offended with my mood swing, "I suppose it does. Other than Peter I have four other brothers here and we can barely stand one another."

"That must suck," I replied, and wondered where he was going with this. It's not like I cared or anything! Sometimes, it's just hard to remember that you're not the only one with problems. Each of the patients here, even Peter and Lili, was convicted of something to warrant their imprisonment. For Alfred it was false relations with a terrorist group, and for me it was murder. What had the others been accused of?

"Yes, but Peter has found Berwald and Tino. They seem to be taking care of him better than I ever did."

"Damn it, Arthur!" I exclaimed, the words affecting me personally. "He may have found some parental-like figures or some shit, but he's still your fucking little brother! If he gets hurt, you're going to be there. You may not be the first on the scene, but you're still going to fucking get there when you can! Why? Because you fucking care! Being brothers, hell having younger or even older siblings is like slamming your head against a fucking cement wall, but you're blood and you're family, so you put up with it."

Feliciano's words flew back to me, declaring his disdain for me, but why? I did not leave him, abandon him, or stop praying that he was somewhere safe. As kids, I always tried to be there, I always protected him, and I had to because no one fully understood: the world is a dangerous place. They didn't see, they didn't hear, they didn't have to stand by unable to do anything, they weren't  _there_. It was just me and I was useless, scared shitless, suddenly alone, small, weak, and then it was like I had died…maybe because it should have been me.

"Are you alright?" I snapped out of my thoughts and look over at Arthur.

"No, but it doesn't fucking matter." I growled back, but I wasn't upset with Arthur, he's just the medium that I had taken my frustration out on. "Tea-bastard, remember that you're family is important, no matter how big of bastards they may be."

We spent the rest of the gym period in relative silence, sometimes breaking it to talk about illegal plays that weren't called or how Gilbert was going to regret getting Lili out, even if he hadn't been aiming for her initially.

Gilbert, Arthur, and I headed towards the cafeteria after changing, idly chatting about nothing important. It was really strange because one moment Arthur was calling Gilbert a  _bloody sod_  and the next they were silent. I didn't say anything, Gilbert briefly shifted his eyes from me to the person walking towards us, and then off to the side again.

These fuckers were confusing me; the guy approaching didn't seem  _that_ weird. Okay, so he was wearing a fucking coat and scarf indoors, and—yes–he was  _huge_ in an intimidating way, and so I was starting to see a strange aura around him, but…yeah, okay, he was pretty fucking weird.

"Hello," he called out, and it was almost fucking pleasant!

Still sorta spooked out, I gave a small wave and tried to continue on my way, but the asshole intercepted.

"Would you like to become one?" I blanched, and I mean fucking blanched because I had no fucking idea as to what the hell he was trying to ask me. Become one as in have sex, or become one as in he was nuts in the head and wanted me to become some object that I couldn't see, or even that his ability included something involving that. However, I am a dignified man and finally chose the best course of action, "I'm in a hurry, damn it!"

He frowned, which the memory of is going to give me fucking nightmares, the atmosphere seeming to grow more threatening. My initial bravery caved a little due to fear and I could feel my legs start to grow weak at how intimidating this guy was. A jolt of electricity seemed to spark between us, the air around us growing colder, but then it was gone.

The heavy atmosphere seemed to suddenly disintegrate when the giant smiled, which also would give me nightmares, and simply shook his head, "Not to worry, all things will become one with me eventually."

He then walked away like nothing happened, as if we had discusd the fucking weather! I looked back at Arthur and Gilbert, who were looking back at me. "The fuck just happened?"

"You just met Ivan Braginski," Arthur slowly replied, as if in amazement. "And you came out without a single mark."

"Whatever the fuck that means," I responded, noting that Gilbert had yet to make a remark.

"Oi, albino bastard, you gonna stand there all fucking night?" I waved a hand in front of his face, which he grabbed and cheekily refused to relinquish, the bastard, until we were sitting at the table  _after_ grabbing food, which was awkward as fuck!

"Hey," I greeted before slumping into my seat.

"Hola, Lovi~" Antonio greeted the loudest, and moved his chair closer to mine. I half-heartedly glared at him, too tired to scold or swear at him.

"The Summer Solstice is in a few days," Lukas suddenly stated after swapping glances with Arthur for a few minutes.

Next to me Antonio seemed to tense, along with Matthew and Gilbert. Matthias seemed to be the only one still happily eating his food, but even I could tell by the way he gripped his fucking spoon that he was also unnerved by the news.

"The Summer Solstice is when fire and light type abilities will be the strongest. The whole night we are on lockdown with routine checks to 'make sure no one gets hurt.'" Lukas explained, using air-quotes towards the end.

"It's apparently a part of the schedule here, just like eating and sleeping." Arthur grumbled, but I couldn't see what was wrong with it. If there are people with control issues already and one night a year amps up their powers, then I wouldn't mind staying as far away from it as possible.

"Yeah, that's true, but the dilemma is that The Summer Solstice is almost like an excuse to lock us up. We cannot contact our friends, get out of our rooms in case of an emergency, and each year something always happens." Matthew explained to me.

I was no longer really surprised when Matthew would answer a question I was thinking, more annoyed at the invasion of privacy, but sometimes it was a saving grace.

"What do you mean that something always happens?" I asked, curious.

"Well, last year there was this strange whispering and before that there was an earthquake." Gilbert supplied while trying to keep his tone mysterious, almost like something out of those old Goosebumps shows, but it wasn't very effective.

I rolled my eyes at him, "So let me get this right, we all get put on lock down for a night, some strange shit happens, and then everything goes back to normal?"

It was Lukas' turn to roll his eyes at me, but Arthur stole his thunder, "No, it's not that simple. Something is going on here, has been for a very long time, and The Summer Solstice is a highlight event. Think about it, you git. All communication is severed, meaning we are unable to physically help one another should a problem arise," his voice dipped into a whisper, "It is the ideal opportunity for Dr. Crowley. We are isolated, unless we have roommates, and they have the upper hand. These strange occurrences have always happened on the same two nights each year, and when the next day arises there have been a few that have forgotten the day, and could not remember what they were doing last. This is a large issue, so treat it like one, you bloody git."

I had wanted to flip on the tea-bastard, but I still felt rather lethargic and simply resigned myself, deciding that agreeing with the bastard would be the easiest thing to do. Besides, he had a point. We're a bunch of people (mostly fucking blondes from my experience, and mainly male…stupid sexist shit) with strange abilities, we each are here on charges that may be false or true, and something messed the fuck up is probably going on.

"Lovi, are you alright?" Antonio asked me, leaning into my fucking personal space to stare down at me with his stupid green eyes!

My anger disintegrated seconds before I was about to unleash a long line of expletives and some very nasty comparisons between him and a pile of shit. What came out instead was a half-hearted, "Of course I'm fine, idiota."

"Call the doctor, Lovi is being nearly civil!" Gilbert cracked, and I could fucking feel my face start to heat up, but then the feeling suddenly faded.

I couldn't understand what was going on. My old anger management counselor would be thrilled with my lack of aggression, but I'm Lovino, and anger and aggression are my defaults. Just what was happening to me?

"Lovino, what are you feeling right now?" Matthew asked, sounding concerned, but I couldn't have cared any less than I did in that moment.

"Nothing," I responded, feeling fatigued and strangely tired.

"Did something happen earlier?" Lukas asked, but I was struggling to pay attention.

With my inability to remain attentive, I had no idea how long had passed before Gilbert swore in German.

"We met Ivan in the hall."

"Did they make physical contact?" That was Antonio, but why was the bastardo asking something so stupid?

"No, and he seemed perfectly fine. There wasn't a scratch or mark on him." And there was the tea-bastard.

"Lovino, what happened when you met Ivan?" Lukas asked seriously.

I tried to remember, allowing the events to play back in my head like a movie, but it kept getting sidetracked and disorganized. Curse my old determination to suppress my precognition! It would have been simpler to organize my thoughts had I not tried to get rid of my ability, ignoring the feeling when I would have it and throwing up walls. I hadn't organized a single scene in my head in so long that I was screwing up royally, but I was still pretty tired and couldn't find it in myself to care too much.

"Wait, replay that part." Matthew interrupted, and I simply obeyed and replayed the image of Ivan and me when the atmosphere shifted slightly.

"There, you felt electricity. Have there been any other times you felt that?" Matthew asked.

I thought back on, the memory of Francis grabbing my shoulder came to mind. When I think back on it now, I also got that feeling the first time I met Matthew, Emil, and Kaoru too. I hadn't thought much about it, though. They had been minor and almost insignificant in comparison to when I met Francis and Ivan.

"Really, even me?" Matthew asked and I just looked at him, using the "no-fucking-duh" expression.

"What happened, hey, Norge, who's the guy with the glasses?" Matthias asked, and I rolled my eyes as Lukas reached over and harshly suffocated the Dane with his own tie.

After Matthias was reminded of Matthew's existence and assured that he was not a ghost, Lukas turned back to us, specifically me, and frowned in thought.

"Here, see if this helps," Antonio instructed, all but forcing a cup of warm liquid into my hand.

I was an idiota and just drank it, not wanting to argue. I damn near spit the bitter liquid back up, but the simple burning sip had warmed me in a strange way, and my emotions seemed to flood back, unbridled and wave-like, and I needed to get it out.

"The fuck you fucking bastardo! You don't fucking give someone a mysterious fucking hot liquid and not fucking warn them first, the fuck is wrong with you? Where the hell is your god damn common sense? Don't fucking smile like a shit eating moron, say something you fucker!" I exploded, feeling –as Gilbert would say–awesome at the sudden adrenaline. Once I had that out of my system, my anger simmered back to its normal level.

The stupid bastard just smiled at me, "I had a feeling it would work, Lovi. You just needed some coffee."

I stared at him, aghast and disgusted, "That was not fucking coffee."

"Por what else could it be?"

I "che'd" at his confusion and went full coffee snob on his ass, "A poor excuse for shit, and not quite good enough to be dirt. It's an abomination."

Gilbert then decided to poke fun at my  _healthy_ obsession with coffee, but I set him fucking straight. Coffee is a gift, a lovely gift that I have seen work wonders on people and grades. I am not a large coffee drinker, but I've drank enough to know the difference and have been schooled in the art of coffee snobbery.

"Tea is better," Arthur piqued before taking a sip of his beloved beverage.

I almost wanted to protest just because it was Arthur and he was being a stereotypical Brit, but I liked tea too (Read: picky).

"No, German beer is the best!" Gilbert argued, and once again things descended into chaos as we all fucking argued over what drink was the best.

I don't remember who won or if we all just fucking agreed to disagree, but eventually it was curfew for us patients. I walked back to my room, feeling better than I had previously…lighter, in a strange way that I didn't get, but whatever, right?

I lay down, but couldn't fall asleep. My mind kept going back to that damn Lukas and his ominous warning regarding the Summer Solstice. It wouldn't leave me the fuck alone!

I reached out towards my desk, searching for the lamp. The fuckers here are really particular about "lights out" and I've gotten busted twice with the light on in the middle of the night. If I got caught one more damn time then I would have to spend a mandatory night in solitary. Real fucking lovely.

The switch was finally turned on, and I slipped out of bed. The calendar on the wall was bare, the dates unmarked and pristine.

I glanced at my desk where a jar with an assortment of writing tools were, and then back at the calendar with hesitance. This was fucking stupid, getting worked up over some damn Solstice that may or may not be some shit plot by the orderlies or whoever to lock us up and work on some project. But what if it wasn't?

I hadn't a damn clue about these things! Who was I to say that the strange occurrences weren't  _something_  sinister? I'd been here about a fucking week!

I looked back at the calendar again, counting the days until the Summer Solstice: 2 days. Tomorrow would be the last day before June twenty-first, the Summer Solstice. Before I could psych myself out, I grabbed a marker and highlighted the date in red, writing: B.A. inside the small square. It would be a simple reminder to  _be aware_  of anything off going on.

The Twenty-first of June was sure to be an  _interesting_ day.

 


	8. Contrail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lovino gets his cast removed and notices something off.

My mouth tasted of metal and…salt (?) when I awoke the very next morning. My tongue felt too large for my mouth and dry, like a fucking desert had soaked up every morsel of water and spittle that I possibly had. My head also felt like a bitch, like someone was tearing away at it with a hammer, but durable for the most part.

It was after a moment that I noticed someone was knocking at the damn door. I staggered out of bed, nearly taking the comforter with me, and reached my door with minimal damage. I cursed under my breath as I opened it, and then rubbed my dry throat in pain from the sudden grating noise that my poor vocal cords weren't ready to produce.

"Good morning, Lovino," I looked at Dr. Amra blankly, wondering if he was going to give me my medication this morning, but mostly because I was still disoriented.

Fuck, lights are bright!

"Are you ready to have your cast removed?" He asked pleasantly, and I gawked in fucking surprise.

"Uh," was my brilliant fucking response, "Isn't it supposed to be tomorrow?"

"No, it's today." Dr. Amra corrected me, confused at my inability to remember the correct date that my cast would be taken off on.

"No," I argued, getting angry, "It's the twenty-first; my cast gets taken off the twenty-second."

"Lovino," I looked at the doctor, analyzing him for any deception, "It  _is_ the twenty-second, no joke."

"What. The. Fuck?" I grate out, my voice cracking from being dry, damn it! Not because I was internally panicking or anything!

"Don't worry, you're probably just disoriented from the sedatives we administered yesterday. Disorientation and forgetfulness are common side-effects, no need to panic." He tried to soothe, lightly touching my shoulder in reassurance.

I nodded my acceptance, and followed the doctor to the infirmary to have my cast taken off. I was excited at the prospect of finally being free to move my wrist, while another part reminded me that I would be in physical therapy for a while, and that forgetting a whole day was high on the weird scale no matter if I was drugged or not.

Dr. Amra went about collecting the necessary tools for the procedure, such as a power saw, which was pretty nerve-wracking. So, I fucking got attached to my cast! It's been there a while and…it's signed by the Powell's.

I lightly caressed the signatures, following each loop and curve, the spots where the ink blotted, the little hearts, and read the messages that wished me a swift recovery and the ones that poked fun at my injury. The cast was like a memento to me, of happier times when I finally found a place to call home. I hoped that Dr. Amra wouldn't have to ruin the inscriptions to get the cast off. I didn't want to lose the very few precious physical memories I had of them, because I was a coward. I didn't have the strength to give them up, I doubted I ever would. I loved them, damn it!

I wiped away the unshed tears when Dr. Amra walked back in, almost worried about something. Not wanting this unease to distract the man, which could lead to an unfortunate accident where the saw eats my arm, I decided to question him.

"Oi, is something wrong?" I prayed that he had done the procedure before, that he wasn't a newbie in the art of cast removing, and that his worry was something small or personal.

"My assistant was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago to watch the procedure," I filled in the blanks: someone was getting fired or scolded for being late.

Thankful that it was just the human error for being late, I underwent the procedure with little worry. Dr. Amra even tried to avoid damaging the signatures to the best of his ability, assuring me that some hot glue or tape would help preserve some of the messages he couldn't avoid.

He carefully lifted my forearm and hand out. I grimaced at how scrawny and fucking disgusting it looked. It was bonier than my other wrist and significantly dirtier. I washed the weird gunk off at the sink, making sure to use plenty of soap, which smelled like flowers. It was pleasant, damn it! I also decided that I was thirsty enough to drink from the sink, the cup of water Dr. Amra gave to me before the procedure was not enough.

It was after I had thoroughly scrubbed my forearm clean did I notice something that was fucking odd. "The fuck is this strange mark?" I called back, analyzing the strange  _sun_ -like symbol. It seemed to almost be burned into my skin, or maybe like an old scar was a better description. It was at the half-way point between my wrist and elbow, and a brownish-white against my olive skin (even if my forearm was several shades lighter than the rest of me).

The doctor didn't touch the mark, and stood a good foot or two away, looking uncomfortable and solemn.

Before I could question it more, I heard a strange bouncy noise coming from farther away, steadily growing louder and louder. The door burst open and I witnessed one of the curses of Mother Nature that most men would find attractive, a large-breasted girl. Strangely enough, that platinum haired bastard from yester-I mean a couple days ago came to mind. They had nearly the same hair colour and she also spoke with a Slavic accent that I was unfamiliar with.

"I'm so sorry, Doctor! I thought today was the twenty-first," she cried, her breasts bouncing as she moved, which explained the strange noises I'd been hearing for the last minute.

"It's alright, Katyusha, you're too late to watch the procedure, but Lovino still needs to be healed." Dr. Amra instructed her, nodding towards me.

She nodded, a breast nearly taking her out when she did, and turned to me. I tried to keep my eyes on her face, but those boobs were fucking distracting and kept bouncing! Jesus Christ, I know a lot of girls with large chests, but none that actually enter the room VIA sound waves before they do!

"Hello, Lovino, I'm Katyusha," she introduced, "I'm an assistant nurse here and a part-time patient. Right now, I'm going to heal your wrist in order for a swifter recovery."

She gently wrapped her hands around my scrawny wrist. I was surprised to note that her hands were warm and almost soft despite being calloused. She closed her eyes in concentration, mumbling something that sounded like a chant, and then a strange light began to cover her hands and my wrist.

I was fucking caught off guard by this, and tried to pull away.

"No, it's okay, I won't hurt you." I slowly calmed down, but still kept a wary eye on her, just in case.

It wasn't even a minute before she released my wrist, and I was fucking amazed at the results. My wrist wasn't so bony anymore, nearly the same size as my other wrist, and the tones now matched. However, the same scar-like mark was still there, untouched.

I caught Katyusha looking at it while fingering the sleeve of her white coat, and finally pulled it up as if to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. This allowed me to clearly see that she had the same mark I did.

I was fucking confused again, and knew that it couldn't have been a coincidence, it was too strange, damn it! "Where did you get that mark?" I nearly whispered, part of me wanting to keep Dr. Amra from butting in or becoming suspicious. I glanced over at him briefly, making sure he was still at the sink before looking back at her imploringly.

"W-well, I-I don't know, it was there when I woke up today." Katyusha replied, albeit nervously, "I also thought it was yesterday, my mouth tasted funny, and I have this awful headache that won't go away, but I shouldn't worry about that when there's so much work to be done."

I absorbed the information, and promptly shut her out when she started babbling on about work. This couldn't be a coincidence, I'm sure, but then what the hell happened to us? My thoughts drifted back to Lukas and Arthur's warning, remembering what they had said:  _"_ _We are isolated, unless we have roommates, and they have the upper hand. These strange occurrences have always happened on the same two nights each year, and when the next day arises there have been a few that have forgotten the day, and could not remember what they were doing last."_

Holy shit fuck! This could be what they all had tried to warn me about! Damn it, I was too fucking stupid to listen to their worries seriously! Sure, I was apprehensive, but what did that do for me? A steaming heap of shit, that's what!

"Lovino, are you alright?" Dr. Amra approached me cautiously, probably wondering if I was going to have a panic attack or some shit. I've done all of it before around these people: fainting, visions, throwing up, panic attacks, screaming and yelling, having Romano unleashed (though not on purpose), and crying.

Damn it, I'm a real embarrassment to myself!

I took a few breaths, reminding myself that maybe this was all or dream or that it was going to be alright because a) this really could just be a scar b) if it wasn't just a scar then I could ask Lukas or Arthur about it, and c) I'm still alive, which had to count for something.

"Yeah, it's just strange to have that damn thing off," I hoped I sounded convincing to him, because I didn't even believe myself.

He didn't say anything, just nodded almost sadly, and handed me some medication to take. "You may still experience some stiffness as a side-effect, but these may be minimal as Katyusha has accelerated the healing process by almost a year. If stiffness persists for more than four hours, please alert one of the staff immediately."

"Also, you should take the rest of the day off. Please, don't strain yourself or your wrist. Katyusha's gift may seem to have healed you, but injuries like yours are still subject to caution as any amount of stress or damage could fracture it again."

I nodded as Dr. Amra gave alternatives for the day, reminding me to play it safe. I left after that, heading straight for the cafeteria to have a late breakfast-early lunch.

* * *

I stared down at the strange mark, absently wondering how the fuck it got imprinted on my arm when I had a cast covering it up until twenty minutes ago. I poked it, surprised to find that the skin was soft, like the mark wasn't even there. I moved my arm around, lifting it up to stare at the thing. I fucking near tripped and walked into a wall when I noticed the mark was more prominent in the dark, the outlines almost brighter. I re-exposed it to the florescent lighting, and the mark became barely noticeable.

"Lovino, watch out for the-"I looked up, saw Bella and some-was that Lars?-blond (male, as fucking expected with this common trend shit) before tripping over a fucking cat. The fuck with these cats everywhere!

Before I fell on my face, the blond guy-yep, Lars-grabbed my arm (the one without the mark) and steadied me. I, being such a grateful person, glared angrily at him, because that was embarrassing, damn it!

"Thanks, bastard," I huffily replied, wrenching away from him.

He stood there and just nodded coolly, which pissed me off more for some reason.

"Lovi, are you alright?" Bella asked as she came over to stand before me.

I nodded, not bothering to make up an excuse. "Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"That isn't your-"the blond started, but Bella cut him off.

"Lars, be nice!" she scolded, then turned to me with a smile, "Don't worry about my brother, you know how he is, and he acts just like you around strange boys."

"I am not (fucking) like him!" we both shouted in opposition. Once we realized the sync, we glared at each other before turning away with our arms crossed indignantly.

Bella giggled at us, "What are you doing out here, Lovino?"

I shrugged, my anger diminishing when I turned back to Bella. "You didn't answer my question: why are you here?"

Bella fidgeted a bit, "Well, I woke up really disoriented and Lars wants me to go see Dr. Amra, though I'm sure it's nothing serious." She gave the man a pointed look, which he ignored by looking away from her.

I grabbed her arm then and pushed up her sleeve, praying that I was wrong, but it sounded too similar to my own experience. Lars grabbed me from behind and threw me against the wall, holding me there.

"Lars, stop, please!" Bella cried, latching onto one of his arms.

The fucking scarf-bastard looked over at her, and she stared back. "Let him go,  _now_."

He begrudgingly let me go, jerking away. He looked at Bella then, as if waiting for her to respond. She remained stern and wagged her finger at him, scolding him for attacking me.

"Bella, I need to talk with you,  _alone_." The scarf bastard glared at me, which pissed me off, but I had more important shit to worry about, damn it!

She nodded, "Alright. Lars, I'm going to go with Lovino to see Dr. Amra, okay?"

Lars just casted her a look before walking back down the hall whence he came.

Bella punched me harshly in the arm. "The hell was that for?"

She pursed her lips at me, "You don't suddenly grab a girl to push up her sleeve, Lovi. I thought I taught you better than that."

I nearly winced at the look she was giving me and the scar on my ankle pulsed once in reminder of that  _lesson_. "I-I'm sorry," I only stuttered because-well, fuck it!

"I was looking for something like this," I stated, showing her the mark on my arm.

Her face seemed to blank then. She pushed up the rest of her sleeve and there it was-an identical mark. "Oh, Lovi, I'm so sorry." I was nearly thrown back into the wall when she hugged me, god damn she had a grip!

"I don't need to break a fucking rib again!" I grumbled, but gingerly patted her back. I had no idea why this bitch was apologizing and I shoved it off as another mystery of women.

As soon as her tears were there they were gone again. She grabbed both my wrists and started to drag me down the hall, "I know someone who can help fill in some of the missing pieces."

"Who?" I lamely asked.

She smiled, "My roommate, Natalya. I can see her in our room still."

I didn't bother asking her how she knew. I always knew that she was different, and she had no problem with it. Her power came to her naturally and was something hard to really pinpoint.  _Remote viewing_ , that's what she termed it one day to me. It had been years ago, after we had become friends and happened to be chilling out at some stupid druggy party that was a loud of shit.

Bella lived in the east wing in room five, which wasn't anything special, but the room certainly was. It was huge and had four sections indicated by four beds. Each of the areas looked well lived in and personalized, especially the one with the lanky girl who Bella happily called out to.

"Natalya, I knew you were still here!"

The platinum blonde didn't bother putting down her magazine when she replied, "What is it this time?"

"Oh, don't be like that!" Bella pouted. "Natalya, this is Lovino-"

"I remember. He's the DID* who fucked up that Rickerson bastard." She blandly stated before looking to meet my eyes, "Nice job on that."

I simply shrugged, not exactly proud, but Natalya turned her attention back to Bella, "What do you want?"

"Can you use your memory recollection on us?" Bella asked.

I blinked, but let it go when Natalya blankly stared at the other girl, "Why?"

"You remember this morning, and Lovino had the same problem! We also have these!" She showed Natalya the mark on her arm and indicated for me to as well.

"Was there anyone else I should know about who has the same mark?" Natalya asked with a roll of her eyes,

I cut Bella off, "Yeah, Katyusha has one too."

The girl jumped up and grabbed my arms-fuck, what is with these girls and having bruising grips?-and shook me a bit, "Katyusha, big-breasts, short platinum hair, that Katyusha?"

"I didn't think there was more than fucking one!" I snapped, pushing her arms off me.

She paused, emotions splashing across her face before disappearing into contained anger. "Both of you sit on the bed,  _now_."

We didn't bother arguing and followed her directions. I was a little nervous, but only because I had no fucking idea how her ability worked! For all I knew, she needed some blood to throw into a damn cup to read my tea leaves or some shit!

Natalya grabbed her desk chair and pulls it over in front of us before sitting down. She looked at Bella and holds out her hand, waiting. The darker blonde sticks out her arm for her to take, which Natalya does. She places one hand on Bella's mark and then closes her eyes.

We sat in silence for a moment, waiting for something to happen. I didn't know what to expect, but Natalya talking in some strange trance voice like she was high on drugs was  _not_ it.

"There's hair, long and dark. It comes at you silently, one of the last things you see before a dark room. There's a symbol there, but your mind is too disoriented, possibly from the drugs administered earlier that day, to make out what it fully looks like. The symbol is the focal point, and there are voices…chanting? It's hard to make out. Pain, a searing pain on your arm, right here…" she pauses then for another moment, her eye lids fluttering before narrowing, "Red-there's blood, not just yours…there's something watching you, then pain here again."

I watch the exchange in awe. Natalya broke out into a sweat and she bit her jaw, her face morphing into a grimace. She let go of Bella with a short gasp and breathed shallowly for a moment before she calmed herself. She held up her hand for Bella to stop fretting and let her be for a moment.

"Let's get this over with," she finally stated, and held her hand out to me. I nervously let her take my arm. Her hands were a bit cold, but when she closed her eyes and touched the mark they warmed up.

It was the same as before. She started talking once her eyes started fluttering, "He's there,  _Romano_ as you dubbed him, but only after the drugs and a-a…shot? It's too hard to make out, your consciousness started slipping over to him. There's pain…and blood where the mark is...and an eye, watching." She seems to freeze for a moment and tried to pull away, but can't. Her eyes flutter uncontrollably and she starts to cry, "Fire, it's everywhere! I'll go, I'll go look for them, don't worry…Mommy, daddy?"

I wrenched myself away from her and her eyes suddenly open, glassy and opaque. The violet-blue hue they once were was watered down and milky, and she was both there and not. She cried out, her right arm extending forwards in a panic, and then the episode was gone. She merely blinked and her eyes were back to normal.

She put her arm down, but retained eye contact with me. I didn't know what to say or do, so I just looked back at her quietly. Her frightened and horrified expression morphed back into her controlled blank one, and she turned away to look at Bella.

"Your memories are hazy from the administered drugs, but from what I could see, you both experienced much of the same things. However, Bella was taken more forcefully, while you" she glanced over at me briefly, "were drugged heavily. The pill they gave you fucked you over enough that Romano was half in control, mostly due to the pain you were experiencing."

"Wait, what the fuck do you mean?" I interrupted, and she glared at me in response for a brief few seconds.

"Did I stutter, idiot? Romano came out of the back of your consciousness because you were too fucked up to defend yourself, but they didn't make it easy for him. You could probably remember it all, if he wanted you too." She started, but I felt a tug at the back of my mind, and then a book on her nightstand was thrown across the room.

I gritted my teeth and willed Romano away, and then mumbled an apology. Natalya shrugged it off, "My brother has done worse."

"The marks seem to be a part of something larger, but I can't tell what exactly. However, you both are involved. As you know, this has happened to various individuals over the past four-five years. I can't say why or how it happens, but those marks are permanent." Natalya finished, and might have said more if there wasn't a knock at the door.

"Bella," Natalya stated. The girl got up and headed to answer the door without complaint.

I stood up, but Natalya caught his arm, "I saw what happened to them, to your parents when you were younger. It wasn't an accident." She whispered the last part to me, leaning in closer to make sure she wasn't overheard.

I froze, my eyes were wide and I slowly turned to look at her. Her eyes pierced me-she was serious. Oh my god, she wasn't kidding!

"No, no…that-"she cut me off with a curt, "midnight tomorrow, your room."

"Natalya, Kievan Rus is here to give you your medication." Bella called.

I look to the door where a man with short white hair was standing passively with a faint smile on his face. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything, but you didn't take your medication this morning, Natalya."

Natalya shifted, but did not respond.

"Lovino, I think we should go now." Bella suddenly stated after a long pregnant pause.

"Yeah, bye, Natalya," I lamely said before following Bella out the door.

Once we were down the hall she sighed heavily. I looked over at her with a raised fucking brow because that shit back there was tense as fuck. "The hell was that about?"

"Kievan Rus is her counselor. Natalya is on medication for various reasons, not just to contain her powers. When she doesn't take it Kievan comes to check on her to make sure she isn't experiencing severe withdrawal or undergoing a psychosis episode." Bella then gave me a serious look, "Natalya is completely harmless though-most of the time. The medication they initially gave her made her increasingly unstable and has had lasting effects on her mind."

"Glad to know she isn't a psychopath without reason," I casually responded. Bella gave me a scolding frown, but left it alone as I did get what she was saying.

"Well, it's almost lunchtime, so I can probably slip back into the populace without needing a note. What are you going to do?"

"Grab something to go and then go to my room for awhile. I might skip dinner." She grabbed my arm worriedly, "Are you alright? Did Natalya say something?"

"No," I lied. "I'm just tired is all."

She nodded in understanding while letting go of my arm, "If you say so, but, Lovi, I'm here if you ever need to talk. It can be like old times again, when we used to hang out and go to those dumb parties just to piss off Lars."

"And you wonder why we stopped getting along," I muttered, remembering how Lars and I used to get along until Bella started hanging out with me more and more.

"Hey, I already explained to him that you weren't interested in me!" She argued, "Besides, he does like you, it's just that he doesn't know how to react around you because of…Romano, you know?"

I sighed in defeat because I didn't fucking blame the guy. Romano was unpredictable and might break through at some point; Lars was just being a good brother and looking out for his sister. I would have done the same thing.

I nodded, "I'll see you tomorrow."

Back in my room, I sat down on the bed and stared at the mark on my arm, but my thoughts are elsewhere. What did Natalya mean when she said it wasn't an accident? She saw the memory of how his parents died, oh my god, she knew.

I couldn't process this and, needing a distraction, I took out my violin. My Nonno had once helped me compose a piece for the cello and, still remembering the melody, I had worked to replicate it on the violin. I've been recomposing it for the past year, but I still can't remember what the title was or why everything about it made me want to cry.

I took up the instrument and the bow after taking out the music sheets, and then I began to play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *DID=Disassociate Identity Disorder or Multiple Personality Disorder.
> 
> New Characters: Natalya-Belarus, Lars-Netherlands, and Kievan Rus is just himself, but he has a twin (Scandinavia).


End file.
